


H A N N I B A L - Gamer's Edition

by innominatus



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Branding, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Will Graham, Gamer Hannibal, Gen, Hallucinations, Hannibal Lecter is Not a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is a Tease, Hannibal is having a Great Time, Jealous Will Graham, Lingerie, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal Lecter, Manipulative Will Graham, Mason Verger is a Creep, Murder Husbands, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Linear Narrative, Not You Will, Oblivious Hannibal Lecter, One-Sided Attraction, Possessive Will Graham, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reincarnation, Role Reversal(of sorts), Save Scumming, Self-Indulgent, Serial Killer Will Graham, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Stalking, Top Will Graham, Will Graham is a Cannibal, someone help hannibal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-03-07 10:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innominatus/pseuds/innominatus
Summary: In which a Fannibal gets reborn in the Hannibal universe as the Cannibal himself....But as a[Gamer]. The world is never the same again.AKA My desire for an oblivious Hannibal fic manifesting since there are so many of Oblivious!Will stories aroundCHAPTER 19::All Hallow's Eve is coming - remember to use up all event tokens holiday ends as they'll be useless till next Eve~!





	1. G A M E

**Author's Note:**

> \- A crackish series of non-linear fills on Hannibal having the GAMER ability. Toys with timelines and plots.
> 
> \- Featuring Will misunderstanding everything with his overactive imagination and Hannibal simply following the rules of the game.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal games. Timelines are twisted.

"I never took you to enjoy  _video gaming_  of all things, Dr Lecter."

 

"Please Will, call me Hannibal." Hannibal shifts slightly, picking out an imperceptible piece of lint from his sleeve, as if trying to hide this perceived flaw of his. It was cute in Will's opinion; like a cat grooming itself after an accidental fall.

 

"I found myself curious to the gaming world and their allure hooked me in - they have an undeniable beauty to it..."

 

Will smirked at Hannibal's flustered explanation - he found himself liking the way Hannibal was at a loss. It was refreshing.

 

**[Will's Affection has increased by 10.]**

 

Hannibal inwardly sighed as Will's affection for him fluctuated once more. Really, the man's liking towards him changed more than an indecisive teenager and clothing.

 

"So... What kind of games do you play, doctor? P*kémon Go?" Will hedged, curiosity getting the best of him.

 

"Nothing of that sort," Hannibal said snidely. "Such games incite distasteful actions in most people; really, trespassing and obstructing others for the sake of some pixels? How... _rude."_

 

Will looked amused. "You really like gaming, huh? Never would've thought a dandy like you would appreciate something so  _modern_."

 

Hannibal levelled a glare.

 

**[As Will Graham's level is higher than you by 5, Glare's effectiveness is reduced by half.]**

Yeah, you read that right. Will Graham was of a higher level than Hannibal despite Hannibal being a Gamer and having more experience. 

 

What was it with FBI profilers that gave them such ridiculous levels anyways? 

 

As if reading his mind, Will gave the former surgeon a smug look.

 

( _Unknown to Hannibal, Will was busy fighting the urge to kiss away the pout on those cupid-bow lips. The smirk was just a side-effect._ )


	2. Game Mode: Casual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal's entire existence is a cheat. He's perfectly okay with that.
> 
> Also, some insight into his way of living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° my gratitude to all who read, reviewed and liked this work and chose to give it a chance despite how short it was at the start~

For as long as Hannibal could comprehend, he lived life like a game.

 

Windows embroidered with vintage floral designs( - _which he picked after getting bored of the typical blue screens_ ) were a mainstay in his life, appearing to provide information,  **Quests** and rewards, allowing him to pick his path and see the pros and cons without unnecessary risk.

 

Of course, certain limited-time events or **Hidden Quests** would have unknown risk/reward factors, but Hannibal accepted them considering their rarity.

 

He was unique from other gamers who were known to be detached from life(- _as seen in many a story_ ) - observing things in a third-person perspective or from a gamer's view(-  _calculating everything as stats and scores rather than feeling_ ).

 

While his  **Gamer's Mind** kept him calm throughout his time, Hannibal prided himself on being able to _feel_ actual emotions without the system affecting him.

 

Some might think that involving emotions was a downside to an otherwise perfect game, but to Hannibal it was a boon. After all, what was the point of living without emotion? How utterly boring would it be if one's life revolved around rankings, bonuses and points?

 

His **[Noble]**  heritage meant that he came with the skillset of one - a passive that would activate and present the ideal image of a proper nobleman and socialite without any effort on his part, which delighted the man immensely.

 

Hannibal was one for self improvement by way of his **Instant Dungeon(I.D),** which had many different variations and settings after constant levelling, which let him practice whatever skills he learnt as required. You didn't think that his **Cooking** and **Dancing** skills came from looking at **Skill Books** , right?

 

Practical skills had to be _practised_  in order to bloom into their full potential, as **Skill Books** only gave him the **_Skill_** , not the experience. Still, being pick things up so quickly(- _thanks to the time dilation in his **I.Ds**_ ) pretty much gave him the title of child genius.

 

It was a useless title, much like the other dozen he had. Stupid things like **[Reincarnator]** or **[Player]** were just there to decorate his profile( _read: no buffs attached_ ); the only useful title was **[Loved By Lady Luck]** , which gave Hannibal a _50% increase with any action that had chance or luck in play._

 

That pretty much encompassed whatever he did. Counting in Hannibal's purposely statted amount of **LUCK** , very little could go wrong. Walking on the sidewalk? Cue hundred dollar bills. Gambling? Continuous wins(- _who needs maths with max **LUCK**?_). Get hurt? Expect glancing blows or near-misses.

 

Really, so many people underestimated **LUCK** , seeing it as chance or something used for lucky draws. Few realised that it was that which provided opportunity, blessings, discovery and second chances.

 

Hannibal Lecter has always prided himself on being a lucky man. ~~_It was not enough to save Mischa though, but that was also Hannibal's own fault. His Sloth. Another of his worthless titles._~~

 

For the most part, Hannibal followed the plot obediently, aiming for start canon-related events and quests. It was not out of any particular reason, but more of Hannibal being inclined to a timeline he knew rather than purposely throwing it into chaos.

 

As fun as that would be, the fannibal who he was in his previous life was a lazy man - and this trait had carried over into his present life as Hannibal Lecter. ( _It's probably why Mischa's life ended like that, but Hannibal doesn't entertain such thoughts anymore_.)

 

Hannibal _could_ have become a cannibal, that was certain, but the downsides eclipsed the upsides by a ton.

 

By choosing the canon route and becoming a cannibal would turn him into a **[Wendigo],** a monster in human skin with a taste for human _flesh_.

 

So what if he was immortal and unaging?

 

So what if he had superior senses and strength?

 

It would detract from his original beauty, not to mention the fact that Hannibal would only be able to consume raw,  _human flesh_ and  _nothing else._ No spices or herbs or delicate desserts.

 

No more fancy dinners or fine wines - just raw meat and pure butchery; like an animal. How utterly unappealing.

 

Add to the fact that he would probably be hunted down by authorities in general upon finding out of his cannibalism? 

 

No thanks.

 

He still stuck with the cannibal puns though. 

 

...perhaps that was what got him into so much trouble down the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- While having a gamer's life without excessive emotion might seem appealing at the start, I feel that I would tire of the monotony of it after a while. Hannibal would probably be the same, because if one is to be a true artist, they would have to have emotion to showcase the depths of their mind.
> 
> \- The gaming system that Hannibal has has different modes - **Casual** (perfect for those who want to focus on the storyline and not worry about hunger or stamina or sleep interfering), **Survival** (which has the hunger/thirst/exhaust system and penalties if conditions are not met), **Nerd** (stat heavy, for those who like knowing damage output, rate of decay and hit or miss ratio etc) and so on.  
> *Hannibal goes casual mode cause he wants to enjoy life and does not need to prove anything to anyone


	3. S A M P L E :: Will's Date - 010

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal thinks that his attraction to Will is one-sided and thus does not overthink Will's gestures.
> 
> Hint: It's not, but we'll get deeper into that some other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Enjoy, people, we'll soon be going on a fun ride through the Trying Life and Times of Will Graham

In another universe, Hannibal is a cannibal and an excellent chef with a predilection for cannibal puns.

 

In this universe, Hannibal is an excellent chef with a predilection for cannibal puns.

 

Both Hannibals have a terrible sense of humour.

 

Will Graham, as always, is a staple in Hannibal's life once he enters it; that never changes. 

 

His meeting is somewhat different from canon, but Hannibal is still intrigued by him all the same. 

 

He likes to believe that Will is the same. Even if Hannibal is not the Chesapeake Ripper in this timeline, he can still lure the profiler in - with _legal means_ , for the most part.

 

The handmade meals and thoughtful gifts are just one of Hannibal's many tactics.

 

 _The way to a man's heart is through his stomach,_ as the saying goes, though Hannibal would be loathe to ever say it aloud lest his morbid humour get better of him and twists his words.

 

"You'd be the perfect wife, Hannibal," Will jested.

 

 _Of course I would. Max level **Housekeeping** , **Cooking** , secondary **Chef** class and a near maxed out **Hosting** on top of all my other jobs; who can ever compare?_ A tiny, prideful smile curls Hannibal's lips - the action not going unnoticed by Will.

 

 _Was Will Graham always this bold?_ Hannibal wonders, taking his time to savour a bite of his dessert; a raspberry _millefeuille_ , enjoying the composition of delicate puff pastry, silky cream and fruit, watching Will's eyes inadvertently dilate.

 

It was surprisingly sweet to see how much he affected Will in their _dates_ \- which was the system's way of phrasing any meetings with other people. 

 

"Why Will," Hannibal teases. "- are you proposing?"

 

"We haven't started our courtship yet, but a man can hope, right?" The brunette answered and took a large bite of his dessert, swallowing hungrily, like he was trying to sate some internal hunger within him. "I don't think I could keep you well enough with the salary I earn though, so you might have to wait."

 

Hannibal fights down the surge of warmth at the sincere tone in Will's voice. The man was projecting as usual.

 

Will would make for a fine husband for Molly, once he got his issues handled. He ignores the pang of hurt in him at that notion.

 

( _Hannibal wishes Will would consider him as a potential partner, but he doubts he can ever offer the man a proper relationship so he tells himself he is content with what he has_.)

 

"That is a kind thought, Will, but you need not worry about that. I came from old money, so wealth is not at the forefront of my mind; I'd prefer pleasant company, though anything you bring will be very much appreciated."

 

**[Will's Affection towards you has increased.]**

 

It is as close to a love confession at their current stage, piled atop Will's growing liking to him. It makes Hannibal avert his eyes from Will to focus on his plate, thus missing the dark glint in the younger's eyes.

 

"You know, people might think that I'm only after your money." 

 

Hannibal chuckles. "- and my good looks." 

 

The doctor admires the surprise on Will's face as he gathers up the empty dishes, finding himself wanting to see more of the agent's expressions, like cracking open a geode to see its pretty interior.

 

"Now then, Will," Hannibal says with a smile(-  _inviting the wolf into his house_ ).

 

He cannot help but tease.

 

"Would you keep me company as I wash the dishes or do you prefer the cliché where I am barefoot and chained to the stove while you relax in the living room?" 

 

Silence. 

 

Starting on the dirty dishes, Hannibal wonders whether he had taken things too far. 

 

"Will? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable-"

 

"I'd love to see you chained..." Will says in a low murmur, though his voice goes unheard under the notification of Will's increasing relationship level with him.

 

_"What?"_

 

"What?"

 

Those words certainly made the psychiatrist turn his head briefly, only to see Will fiddling with his phone at he leant on the doorway before looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

 

"I'd love to see you cook for me..."

 

_Did I mishear things?_

 

Frowning to himself, Hannibal continued his chores, murmuring his thanks when Will joined in to help dry the dishes. 

 

It was a peaceful, companionable silence - and Hannibal could honestly see why the original liked cooking so much.

 

If only Will would stop being so paranoid. Hannibal wouldn't bite(- _unless asked nicely_ ), so there was really no need for the younger to keep glaring holes in his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *no Hannibal, Will is just admiring your decidedly shapely rump from a better angle, no need for worry...


	4. Backstory

Hannibal has always been a strange child.

 

That is Chiyoh's first impression when she meets him. He is starved for affection, she can see it when he leans into his uncle's every touch and Lady Murasaki's kind words.

 

He is not odd in a bad way; Hannibal simply gives off this ethereal and dreamy look, going into a daze at times, and Chiyoh sometimes feels that if Lady Murasaki was not there to hold him down he would disappear into the forests surrounding their home.

 

Maybe that's why Lady Murasaki got Chiyoh to protect and look after Hannibal; something to ground him. Chiyoh prefers to think of Hannibal as a rare creature, and she, his guardian against those who wished to steal him away.

 

Especially those strange investigators and the other one that seemed torn between courting Lady Murasaki or Hannibal. At least the creepy Italian was keen only on one person - even if was her younger charge.

 

Like a kitsune or a firefly, attracting all sorts of attention but disappearing at dawn - though Hannibal is kind enough to stay, lingering at Lady Murasaki's side faithfully till he grew up into a fine young man then a dapper gentleman.

 

Then they can't hold him down anymore.  _There are no more Quests here,_ he had said one day, eyes reflecting the light of the setting sun - and Lady Murasaki nods gently, kissing him on the forehead as she bid him farewell.

 

He leaves for the West, departing from the Orient he calls home for a taste of new blood, but returns whenever needed.

 

No one knows how Hannibal seems to understand or know when he is required, no matter how small the matter, even if he is a thousand miles away, Hannibal arrives and leaves without delay. Whenever he returns, he brings stories and gifts to entertain, or a remedy, if needed.

 

Chiyoh is the only one privy to his secret. She is not sure what he saw in her(- _a loyal servant? Slave? Companion?_ ), but she is grateful all the same.

 

It was one winter morning; years after on the day when Hannibal came to their household, a far cry from the feral slip of a boy he had once been.

 

Hannibal Lecter had smiled at her, sweet and soft. The sun was setting too then, casting the world in shades of red gold.

 

"Shall we form a **[Party]**?"

 

_I trust you, like I do with Lady Murasaki, who knows all but rarely speaks._

 

Chiyoh nods, takes his hand in hers -

 

**[Party formed.]**

 

\- and finally sees how Hannibal looks at the world around him.

 

It is amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Hannibal and Lady Murasaki/Chiyoh are on good terms as Hannibal makes it a point to keep as many allies and friends as possible. That Lady Murasaki's high friendship levels gives out more rewards is just another bonus
> 
>  
> 
> * so excited for Death Stranding to be released on November 8th 2019. Mads Mikkelsen is drop-dead [gorgeous](https://redfffield.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/mads_by_direnzo01.jpg?w=584) in there. _Goddamn._


	5. Summertime Event: Will's Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summertime Event: Features new collectibles, secret scenarios and dating events.
> 
>  **New! Will's Date**  
> \- Requires Swimming Pool/Swimming Set/Will's Intimacy 60  
> \- Optional Summertime Cocktail  
>  **Reward**  
>  \- Increased relationship with Will Graham  
> \- (Limited)Dog Pool Float  
> \- 500 EXP, $6969, 1 Event Lottery Ticket
> 
> Lottery now has limited events available to draw - featuring A/B/O Summertime Slickfest, Pool Party Murder, Beachside Relaxation and more!
> 
> Fishing now has new locations(Beachside, Mysterious Pool) and fishes/items(Bait for Idiots, Dancing Fish etc.) available only during summer!
> 
> *Complete 3 quests perfectly for a Legendary Gacha ticket, 5 quests for a Legendary Lottery ticket and all quests for 2 Legendary Gacha and Lottery tickets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the interest you've shown this fic. Comments and kudoes are highly appreciated, so please enjoy the summerfest chapters! More to come soon c:

It's summertime.

 

Hot, sticky summer heat that stank of sweat and the buzzing of mosquitos - not to mention that the majority of Baltimore's FBI's air conditioners had broken down, just in time for the heatwave.

 

Will's house had followed suit, but he was lucky enough to have a good fan in working condition and an inflatable pool big enough for his dogs to cool down in.

 

Hannibal, the lucky bastard, had a fully functioning aircon but had kindly invited Will for a dip in his private swimming pool, citing relaxation and stress relief. 

 

Will felt that his stress levels would go through the roof at the notion of hiding his erection from wet and nearly naked Hannibal and would much rather destress by taking apart a few more killers but well, Will has always been masochistic when it involved Hannibal.

 

He agrees.

 

* * *

 

Will makes it to Hannibal's house half an hour early, duffel bag packed with his necessities.

 

Then Hannibal greets him at the door in a bathrobe that does nothing to hide his toned form.

 

The profiler begins a mantra of keeping his cool even as his dick threatens to poke a hole through his pants. His duffel bag is positioned neatly to block the illuminating view from Hannibal's eyes.

 

Will goes through the usual pleasantries mechanically, more focused on the pout of Hannibal's lips and the soft curls of silvery hair peeking out from the loose robe that did little to hide Hannibal's flesh.

 

_The robe slips open more when Will reaches out and tugs the loose knot, to which Hannibal watches with curiosity, his passiveness an open encouragment to Will._

 

_Will, who greedily runs his fingers through the soft fur on Hannibal's broad chest, petting the expanse of golden skin and -_

 

Fuck. Why the fuck did the bathrobe end just above Hannibal's knees again? 

 

Not that Will was protesting. He was just... prone to an overactive imagination(- _just the idea of anyone else being able to see or get to touch Hannibal like this sets him on the edge_ ). Being treated by the sight of Hannibal's nice calves and ass as he led the way to the pool was enough to fill his fantasies for a little while.

 

His recovering composure was unhelpfully assaulted by the sight of Hannibal strip- er,  _removing_  his robe to reveal broad shoulders, firm muscles and a pair of swimming trunks that hugged his toned thighs and showed off the swell of his ass perfectly. 

 

Then Hannibal just had to bend over and set his folded robes(- _holy shit how fast did his fingers move?_ ) down and Will was happy to confirm that age did not affect Hannibal adversely _at all._

 

 _Ageing_ _like fine wine,_ Will thinks, admiring Hannibal's derriere.

 

The psychiatrist is surprisingly tanned for a man that spent most of his time counselling others; supple sun-kissed skin and corded muscles, with the slight, soft curve of his belly - telling of lavish food and a wealthy life.

 

It doesn't deter Hannibal's looks, like a well-fed lion or wolf on the prowl.

 

"Will? Would you like to take a dip? It would be much better rather than risk overheating in this weather."

 

 "Urgh," Will says smartly, face red as Hannibal strides towards him, 90% naked and 100% _the concerned older psychiatrist who has no right to look so sexy._

 

"There is no need to feel embarrassment - or shame," he pointed out as Will made no move to do anything. "Do you find difficulty with the naked body, Will?"

 

_Yes. Yours. Prominently._

 

Will punches his dick in his mind, biting his tongue to focus on the jolt of pain and not his dick. Tasting blood only made Will imagine it was Hannibal's as he bit and sucked at the exposed skin - fuck.

 

He stops himself from reach out and yanking his psychiatrist in for some heavy petting at the last minute.

 

"Is this therapy?" He retorted, sounding more pained than intended.

 

Hannibal thankfully took his words as jest, a little curl to his lips that made Will want to kiss it off and maybe -

 

"It could be," the good doctor offered, "- but I had intended this a relaxation exercise between friends."

 

A once-over with cool eyes that did absolutely nothing for Will's fracturing composure. 

 

"It has been proven that one will be better rested when their body is thoroughly… _spent_."

 

_God, even his speech is laced with innuendo!_

 

Will wants to die.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal feels that he should have invited more people over.

 

Maybe turned it into an impromptu pool party with Team Sassy Science and the FBI. 

 

There would be little cocktails, an assortment of hors d'oeuvres, nice, atmospheric music and potential for more gifts from the relationship boost he would get from everyone participating.

 

He _likes_ to believe that Will looks at him with lust and desire and not emphatic interest, but Hannibal knows that age and his indulgence towards rich foods has left him softer around the middle; something he accepts as a result of  _foie gras_  and decadent pastries over the decades.

 

Too bad that the summertime event only had Will's date as a _'private'_ event, though it made sense with the man's antisocial nature. Group events would scare the other off ten out of ten times.

 

The possessive side of Hannibal was gleeful to have the profiler all to himself. Will looked absolutely  _delectable_  in his swim shorts.

 

Really, if Hannibal could convince Will to let him paint him like one of his French girls, his artistry would gain another level from sheer _will_ alone.

 

_Oh, the puns._

 

Perhaps he could plant the idea of a beach party in Jack's head later on - the chance to gain  **Photos**  for his collection was too good to pass up.

 

As Will was having his regularly scheduled  **Seizure(Mild) -**  a side effect of his mild brain inflammation and  **Fragile Teacup** title, Hannibal began his warm-up stretches, ignoring the other's spazzing out after his innuendo-filled words.

 

The happy alerts of his system announcing his steady completion towards his quests drowned out any apprehensiveness at saying such things a long, long time ago(- _somewhere around his fifth cannibalism pun and flowery, entendre-laced speeches_ ). 

 

He had  **Observed**  early on that Will's tendency of going into a daze was something incurable; it was probably the man's character trait - a downside of his **Empath** Perk no doubt.

 

Really, you couldn't pay Hannibal to get a passive perk that took such a toll on his mind - and the weird string of titles( _Desperate, Loner, Cocktail Disorder, Graham Cracker were a few examples_  -) that Will had was not helping in any case.

 

Anyways, Will would snap out of it by himself soon enough. 

 

In the meanwhile, Hannibal would do a couple of laps around the pool and contemplate on how to insert in some canonical lines in his speeches - all for the sake of a perfect quest completion.

 

Really, it was such a pity no one would truly understood the lengths Hannibal went to for perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gacha tickets are for avatar items(clothing accessories, wallpapers, furniture - stuff of that sort)  
> *Lottery tickets offer everything and anything, but tend to feature more usable items(weapons, money, event tokens, collectibles etc)  
> *Character perks and traits all require a certain amount of points to obtain. Selecting a bad trait gives more points to be used for good traits. One can devolve the traits anytime at the cost of experience. Hannibal has the Oblivious trait, which means that Attract-based actions have 40% less effect on him.


	6. Character's Impression of [YOU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal goes to therapy _(- mainly to improve his relationship with Bedelia)._
> 
> Bedelia feels that Hannibal needs a love therapist, but keeps him for the free alcohol and entertaining _(- if somewhat exasperating)_ company.

Bedelia is Hannibal's listening ear in this world too.

 

Hannibal met her during an art convention around France, where rumours of the retired psychiatrist Du Maurier was visiting. They clicked well after being introduced by mutual acquaintances and so a rather unconventional patient-therapist relationship was formed.

 

She is not cautious of him like she was of the original seeing as Hannibal was no killer this time. It is refreshing to see the lack of fear and wariness ageing her good looks; no longer a rabbit that lived each day on the verge of fleeing from a hound that would nuzzle her and rip out her throat on a whim.

 

Instead, Bedelia is compassionate and snappy mixture of a person - all her better traits without being coloured by stress and Hannibal is drawn to this version. Still, her compassion gets on his nerves sometimes, over patronising where it is not needed. But everyone has their flaws.

 

He would have taken her as his wife, were they both not so inclined to autonomy. Well, in reality it was more of Hannibal pining over Will and Bedelia favouring her alcohol, but  _still_.

 

"- and how was your recent trip with Will Graham then?"

 

"Excellent," Hannibal says, taking a sip of his tea. "The investigation was a success and Will was the perfect gentleman. Even when Jack accidentally booked us a room with a single bed, he offered to sleep on the floor."

 

"Hm." Bedelia murmurs, eyes drifting to the wine in her hand.

 

"Of course, I declined the offer; no point in sleeping on the cold floor when there is a perfectly good bed that could fit us both."

 

"- and a warm body-"

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing. Do continue."

 

"Though Will accepted, he was still wary and shy, staring at me even as I undressed-"

 

_"What?"_

 

Now it was Bedelia's turn to be confused. _Was she truly drunk to the point where she skipped out a crucial turning point in Hannibal's tale?_

 

"I sleep in the nude."

 

"Ah." _Lucky man._ She suddenly feels a pang of jealousy towards Will.

 

"I am very comfortable in my own skin - and nearly forgot that there was an audience, though I did not feel the need to re-dress, keeping my boxers on. Will was very appreciative of this thoughtfulness; I found that his entire self had migrated to wrap around me when I woke," Hannibal added in afterthought, as if it would make things better. "- like an octopus."

 

Bedelia did not need that imagery.

 

"He is certainly starved for touch." Hannibal concludes, like groping another man whilst one slept was a perfectly friendly thing to do.

 

The analytical side on Bedelia deducts that Hannibal's mind was stubbornly set on the notion that Will Graham would never be interested in him.

 

Something she rationalised from a mix of Hannibal's professionalism, work ethics and the self-deprecating part that few ever percieved  _existing_ in such a well-established, seemingly perfect man. 

 

To Hannibal, Will is the only one that could ever understand him due to his empathy and caring nature, but any affection could only ever be one-sided on Hannibal's part(- _as Hannibal reiterated countlessly_ ) due to the profiler's apparent wariness towards human contact and distaste towards psychiatrists which meant Hannibal would be one of the last people Will would ever seek a relationship with.

 

That being said, Will's affection is plain to Bedelia even without meeting the man; it's evident how deep Hannibal's delusions run, how fearful he was of rejection to only pine from afar.

 

The good doctor would take whatever affection he could get under the assumption of friendship and at most a familial relationship of brother or father and son(- _Will has daddy issues, Hannibal stated frankly once to Bedelia, who promptly switched to brandy from the sangria she was having_ ).

 

Anything to lessen the risk of rejection and a broken heart.

 

It's so very Hannibal.

 

 _Ruthless yet giving. Gentle and cruel. Contradiction and benevolence. Complex and layered, like a croissant_ , and _Lord_ , Bedelia wants to slap Hannibal for infecting her with horrible comparisons but settles for not telling Hannibal about Will's affections for him instead.

 

Really, she can't help but be amazed at how low Hannibal's self esteem was when it came to Will to the point where he was _100% oblivious_ to Will's advances despite being renowned as one of the most observant doctors.

 

As if a man could be so handsy and inebriated at the right moment _every time_.

 

With an air of exasperation, Bedelia demands an even stronger alcoholic beverage during their next session.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal hopes that Bedelia's unconventional therapy won't escalate to drug usage in them anytime soon.

 

She had already graduated from fruity cocktails to straight up hard liquor.

 

Moonshine and marijuana were next on her to go list by Hannibal's predictions.

 

He hoped otherwise.

 

The side-effects were annoying, even if experienced second-hand.

 

Perhaps Bedelia needed a therapist too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Yes, Hannibal is insecure because canonically, Will betrayed Hannibal despite being attracted to him, and Hannibal replied in turn etcetera, but the gist is that Hannibal suffered for years for a potential chance with Will and gets tossed off a cliff in the end after a possible acceptance. Not really a happy ending if you ask me.  
> *Yes, many things happened in between, but Hannibal prefers to remain intact and trouble-free, even if it means pining from afar.


	7. Guide to Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dating and courtship is just like real life; it can be one-sided and unexpected.
> 
> You can initiate or the other party might initiate even without prompting.
> 
>  **HOW TO::**  
>  \- Relationship Level must be higher than 50  
> \- Accept/Gift 3 presents to start a courtship  
> \- 3 A-Rank or higher dates to get into a relationship  
> \- Pass all related mission with the highest score possible for the best ending  
> \- End your relations at your own risk(- _especially if the interest is on ' **Obsessive** '_)  
> \- Good luck!

It all begins with an unconventional courtship.

 

Stalking issues, everyone else would claim - ranging from feeling eyes on his back and having various flora gifted to him in his workplace. No outright invasion of his home or stolen underwear, so Hannibal deemed it 'acceptable'.

 

 _A respectful stalker,_ Hannibal thinks, chuckling at the thought.

 

( _Hannibal has always loved interesting things_.)

 

_**Ping!** _

**[You have received a Mysterious Gift.]**

 

Hannibal perks up at that, setting aside his cup of tea to make his way to the entrance of his house where he found a neat, black box the size of a kettle sitting on his doorstep. A delicate, lacy red ribbon was tied in a bow to keep it shut.

 

He picks it up, noting its weight and surprisingly cool temperature. Hannibal glances around, observing his surroundings cautiously, but there is no obvious sign of an intruder, so he leaves it be, knowing very well that the lack of panic and attempt to find his stalker is open acceptance.

 

Retreating back into the comfort of his armchair in his living area, he opens the box - and the stench of coppery _blood_ hits him immediately.

 

**[Obtained Heart(×1)]**

**[A new collection has been started: Human Bits and Bobs - 1/20]**

 

 _Oh... Oh my._ Swallowing, Hannibal hurriedly set down the miniature cooler which contained what was undoubtedly a human heart on the kitchen countertop.

 

It was not a stag's heart, however much Hannibal wished it to be.

 

Perfectly nestled in ice and a fresh scarlet - if Hannibal was a Wendigo, he would have surely eaten it with gusto. Raw.

 

A short note typed out in cursive was set at the edges of the heart, pinked and soaked in the slowly melting ice.

 

 _Only you_  and  _stripper_ was all that Hannibal could decipher. 

 

 _Try using waterproof paper next time,_ Hannibal thinks wryly.

 

Well, it was good confirmation as any that he really does have a murderously lustful stalker after him. One that apparently saw his synonymous name as an excellent way to endear themselves to him. 

 

Still, something in Hannibal makes him store the carefully prepared heart(-  _drained of blood and perfect for a dish_ ) in his inventory rather than approach Jack about the possibilities of being courted by a madmen.

 

Maybe Hannibal loved the idea of courting danger. Or being courted by it.

 

....or maybe he just wanted to complete his new collection.

 


	8. M A I N   Q U E S T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As we all know, the Main Quest in canon is to capture the Chesapeak Ripper. 
> 
> That has not changed at all, even if Hannibal is not the killer. 
> 
> The Ripper's identity is randomnised each time, so reset Saves at your own risk.
> 
> Good Luck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Potential medical inacurracy and procedures because of the game's system
> 
> \- Have I ever mentioned how delighted I am to see the Hannibal fandom still going strong? Cause I am. Thank you everyone; y'all are amazing~
> 
> * 'specially your comments~ They always bring a smile to my face

Hannibal's first impulse upon arriving in America is to save Will Graham from his encephalitis.

 

He discards the idea almost immediately after a calming brew of hot coffee and catching a glimpse of what _miiight_ be Will Graham walking his dog.

 

There was no need to speed up time to begin the **Main Quest** immediately anyways.

 

Hannibal had confirmed early on that things functioned just like in any other video game in the sense that one _had_ to comb through details and spend time playing the backstory instead of skipping scenes to ensure the best stats and ending.

 

If Hannibal had skipped the waiting period(- _like what he had done after a year in that Hopkins place_ ), he would arrive at the 'end' with a randomised backstory for those skipped bits of his life and quest completion plus rewards based on his own attributes, which was not something he was keen on doing when unecessary.

 

His apparent addition of one-sided affections from Sutcliff during his Hopkins days was already scarring enough, thank you very much.

 

Will Graham was a ~~pretty~~ paranoid sucker, and would most definitely  _not_ trust a stranger, much less a psychiatrist who claimed to have a extraodinarily good sense of smell.

 

Hannibal had time anyways; it wasn't as if Will would drop dead immediately; his encephalitis was only in the early stages when canon began, which allowed Hannibal plenty of leeway to shape his plans.

 

Will would be suspicious if a kind samatarian appeared from nowhere to help him, but if Hannibal were to play his cards right, he would not only have the FBI profiler twisted around his fingers - but also the gratitude of someone he liked.

 

Hannibal Lecter never claimed to be a good man, and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

 

It's not like Hannibal doesn't have other ways of approaching people like Will; the younger was just a convenient test subject.

 

Really.

 

* * *

 

Baltimore was a lovely place so far.

 

Hannibal's practice in psychiatry was going well and his standing within high society was better than ever with the array of parties and events he hosted and attended. 

 

The Lithuanian was building a good name for himself as a reputable healer of the body and mind with others - which equalled to more quests and rewards.

 

People thought him a kindly gentleman.

 

Hannibal does not correct them.

 

He is fine with his current progression.

 

Then he meets Jack Crawford.

 

To be more precise, he met Bella Crawford first. 

 

Aside from his psychiatry, Hannibal was a surgeon on-call in Baltimore's main hospital(- _one whose name he never remembered and picked for its benefits offered by the system_ ). 

 

He was covering a vacationing coworker's shift when one Bella Crawford was wheeled into Emergency, smelling of blood and something cloying - rotted sickness exhaled from each breath.

 

**[Belladonna]**

**Phyllis Crawford**

**HP: 538/1100**

**(Medium Bleed: Lose 5HP per minute**

**Fractured Bones: -20% SPD, + 50% chance of Paralysis**

**Intermediate Lung Cancer: Kids, this is what happens when you don't take care of your health.**

**-10% to all stats, -30% Endurance to all actions, Critical Attacks are 50% more effective)**

 

 _Ouch._ Hannibal winces imperceptibly at the lady's array of **Debuffs**. 

 

His name is called, a clipboard full of information passed to him as his body moves on autopilot, readying himself for the surgery and procedures ahead.

 

Bless his maxed out surgical skills and the joys of his System's **Auto-Mode**. One might call it laziness by utilising the system instead doing it himself, but Hannibal saw no reason to risk or dare himself after his skills were sufficiently honed and with a no-error system to guide his very form.

 

Languidly, Hannibal's eyes drifts to the information being catalogued in his **Patients** ' file and Bella Crawford's biography within his **Settings**.

 

The thing that catches his eye the most is not Bella and Jack's love story(- _replayed with 3D effects to boot_ ). It is not her days in navy, how she got her cancer(- _poor work environment, second-hand smoke inhalation_ ) or her close shave with death when a drunk driver crashed into her(- _resulting in the current surgery he's performing now_ ), but her **_Title_**.

 

Hannibal has many titles, **Hidden** and otherwise. He has seen many titles. Some are hidden, most are readily available upon **Observing**. 

 

Bella Crawford's is a hidden title only apparent upon knowing her.

 

She is **Beloved**.

 

One might assume it to be common. Are we not loved by family? By our peers and brothers in arms? 

 

But the truth is that to be truly Beloved - _a pure and undying love -_ is so very rare, like a blood moon.

 

Hannibal has only seen that title once, on Mischa.  ~~ _His beloved sister._~~

 

**[Beloved]**

**You are my heart, my soul, my very reason for being**

**\+ 5% Luck**

**\+ 70% Willpower**  

 

Seemingly useless, but **Willpower** was one of those stats that were very difficult to buff permanently - and so very useful for decision-making... and survival, like **Luck**.

 

_So that's why Bella Crawford survived for so long, even when her cancer became irreversible._

 

Hannibal has always been a sentimental fool.

 

 _A sap_ , some might say. _A romantic_ , Lady Murasaki had praised, to Count Robertus's booming laughter.

 

In another world, Hannibal would have let the infection fester, allow Lady Crawford to wither away like all flowers do.

 

He thinks of his Cure-All potions and **Shop Items** , the potential of friendship and of Bella's delight when Jack proposes to her.

 

_My love, how I adore you so - says Jack to Bella as he spins her in his arms, kissing the glorious blush on her cheeks under the setting sun._

 

 _The_ ~~cutscene~~ _memories run on and Hannibal watches._

 

Thinks of the potential rewards and the troubles.

 

Knows of their personalities and their result eternal gratitude; unconditional trust, giving him more leeway if he chose to get a little more murderous.

 

_Two birds, one stone._

 

He makes his decision.

 

The Crawfords deserve a happy ending for once, right?

 

Hannibal is nothing if not accomodating. A gentleman to the very core.

 

* * *

 

The morning is a good one.

 

Fine weather, perfect coffee, a hearty breakfast and a good paper to read.

 

All is going well.

 

He will become a guest lecturer at the FBI Academy thanks to Jack's connections. 

 

Then he can meet and interact with Will Graham, maybe even get to know him on more intimate terms if the man was open to it. ( _Hannibal isn't sure when that idea began taking root in his head, but he has always had a soft spot for Will Graham, before and now._ )

 

It would be a perfect slice of life story!

 

Then -

 

 **The Cheasapeak Ripper Ripping Once More  -**  blares boldly in cursive font across the newspaper headline.

 

_**Ping!** _

**[Discovered Main Quest: Find the Chesapeak Ripper!]**

 

\- it all comes crashing down.

 

( - ' _cause it wouldn't be Hannibal without a regular dose of bloodshed, right?_ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hannibal does not reset anything as he is happy with his current progress and does not want to erase all his acheievments/rewards for a shot at the Ripper
> 
> \- Canonically, Hannibal is proven to be a hot mess at approaching his feelings for Will Graham. This version is no different
> 
> \- Recall how some video games allowed you to skip unimportant bits of the 'backstory' and get randomised set of events + stats + rewards subpar to you actually playing through those scenes? This is the same here.
> 
> \- Like a video game, Hannibal can see cutscenes of the NPC's backstory and their biographies in general. Useful and entertaining.


	9. MISSION: How To Not Save A Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin

**:: ~~Save~~  Hobbs(100% Loot)**

 

The first time around, Hannibal does not get the chance to save Abigail Hobbs.

 

He arrives too late, having spent a good half hour collecting optional clues and evidence for his quest and searching for secret loot stashes as he made his way to the Hobbs' home.

 

When he enters long after the shootout occured, Will has his hands on Abigail's slender throat. Red gore dyed them crimson, and blood splattered like flowers all over the counter and floors like some macabre artwork.

 

Will's health is full, untouched and without any status effects like Hannibal had expected - and Abigail, Abigail is unmoving.

 

Her glassy eyes gaze sightlessly at Will, whose bloodstained hands encircled her neck like a fleshly noose.

 

**Abigail Hobbs**

**HP: 0/1500**

**(Severe Bleeding: Lose 10HP every 2 seconds)**

 

 _Oh,_ Hannibal thinks, just as Will looks up at him with bright eyes - a flicker of something dark that was overwhelmed by devastating guilt. 

 

 _How beautiful,_ he notes - and understands why canon!Lecter was more than willing to hurt Will just to see his responses.

 

Still, he carefully  **Saves**  this result into another file before  **Replaying**  the mission once more.

 

He had a potential quest-giver to save after all.

 

* * *

 

**:: ~~Save~~ Hobbs(Arrive Before Mission Begins)**

 

Lesson learnt. No more dallying.

 

Perhaps he could save Abigail and collect the loot while the FBI milled around afterwards?

 

It would be a little more troublesome, but Hannibal was willing to do anything for a perfect mission.

 

As he and Will went to Garrett's house, Hannibal took several shortcuts, arriving first on the mission grounds. 

 

Will would be arriving shortly, so Hannibal waited patiently, scoping out the scene. 

 

He heard the rumble of Will's vehicle soon enough - and the man pulled up, red-faced and panting - as if he had been yelling.

 

"Did something happen Will? You seem rather agitated-"

 

 _"You_ happened!" Will snapped rudely, poking his pyschiatrist in the chest.

 

For once, Hannibal excused the rudeness.

 

 _You've been excusing Will's attitude in general,_ a snide voice snipped at him.

 

"It's dangerous out here, Hannibal! Hobbs could have seen you and hurt you -"

 

"Will," Hannibal says, placing a calming hand on Will's shoulder. "Please lower your voice. There is no need to worry. While it is touching to see your worry for me, I am hale and _here_ , am I not? Let us focus on Hobb's arrest first..."

 

Will rubbed a hand over his face, nearly dislodging his glasses.

 

"Alright. Alright," Will inhales, unconciously leaning into Hannibal's touch when his hand came up to stroke at a scruffy cheek once before leaving. 

 

"I'm just worried 'bout you." Will snaps, voice gruff. Rude. _Protective_. "We can discuss my actions with you later if you want, doctor."

 

Then -

 

"I'll be going in first - you are a civilian, and I don't want to risk you getting _hurt_." Will's voice is a low rumble, deliciously dark. "You're my responsibility after all."

 

If anyone else had used such patronising or rude tones with Hannibal he would have given them a verbal slap, but when it came to Will, all was forgiven.

 

"Doctor Lecter?" A sudden hint of coy unsurety plays on Will's face and the sudden contrast in attitude leaves Hannibal smitten all over again.

 

"As you wish, my good sir." Hannibal murmurs in a joking tone, a soft smile gracing his face.

 

Will nods, pleased. The peaceful atmosphere coagulates into something more serious when Will puts on his game face - stern and unyielding, every bit dominant and Hannibal can only agree.

 

But...nothing changes.

 

Abigail Hobbs still dies before Hannibal could save her. 

 

**[Replay mission?]**

**▶[YES]**

**NO**

 

* * *

 

**:: Save Hobbs(Useful Loot Only)**

 

This time around, Hannibal works fast. He doesn't grab all the loot, but only the ones worthwhile to him.

 

He reaches the house right behind Will, following the man and staying just behind the profiler as they advanced into the house. No need to aggravate the man anymore.

 

There was a stillness in the air.

 

**Danger sensed.**

 

 _Danger? Wild animals? Disaster? No, we're not in those kind of Danger Zones... it can only be -_ He catches sight of a figure reflected in the dead Hobb mother's eyes and feels the cool metal of a blade on his neck - a faintest kiss of death.

 

  _\- Garret Jacob Hobbs_ _._

 

**[Minnesota Shrike]**

  **Garret Jacob Hobbs**

**HP: 1506/2000**

**(Stressed: 20% chance of self-injury**   **)**

**(Minor Bleeding: 3HP per minute)**

 

  _This didn't happen the first time around._

 

 "Don't move," Garett mutters, breath sour and hot on the nape of his neck. An arm coiled itself around Hannibal's upper torso, pinning his arms to their side as a sharp blade nipped his neck and a rough hand grabbed his shoulder to guide him upright and closer to Hobbs.

 

Much like how Hobbs once held his daughter in the same hold, but replaced with Hannibal and much less love.

 

A meatshield. Hannibal considers the pros and cons of disarming this idiot when Will exits the house in a hurry.

 

It is almost a delight to see the horror play across those fine features when Will took note of Hannibal being held hostage by Hobbs, the grip on his gun trembling.

 

"Will," Hannibal sighs.  _Kill Hobbs,_ he chants inwardly.

 

Let the ground bleed red.

 

The gun trembles, firing true, but not fast enough to prevent the blade from slicing through Hannibal's throat. An unwitting mimicry of Garret slitting Abigail's throat canonically.

 

Hobbs's blood is warm on Hannibal's cheek - much like how Hannibal's lifeblood was splattered over the other two.

 

_**Ping!** _

**\- 700HP**

**[Critical Hit!]**

**[Severe Bleeding inflicted.]**

 

 _Ah fuck._ Hannibal sways, lightheaded as his hands come up to grasp at the bloody mess of his throat, bloody warmth seeping through his fingers and spilling down his throat and coat, absently noting the dull thump of Hobbs's body collapsing on the ground.

 

The searing pain is quickly numbed by his **Gamer's Mind** into a dull throb, but the shock setting into his system sends him to his knees - only avoiding more bruising thanks to Will's surprisingly quick reflexes.

 

"Oh god oh god - _fuck_ , Hannibal -" Will is panicking, something that amused Hannibal considering _he_ was the one dying, not Will.

 

Trembling fingers lose the gun like it's a hot potato, coming to stroke the angle of Hannibal's cheek before resting on Hannibal's throat, trying to stem the blood flow.

 

 _It's alright,_ Hannibal tries to tell Will, but the words come up in a garbled mess of noise and blood. More latter and choked whimpers that only served to elevate's Will's concern.

 

"Backup will be coming soon, _a-_ along with the paramedics. You just have to stay with me, _please_ -" Will is begging now, a sweet sound that Hannibal would preferred to hear under different circumstances.

 

Hannibal decides against healing himself when he sees the slender form of Abigail Hobbs exit from the house from the corner of his eye.

 

She has a shotgun, shivers down her form and steel in her eyes. 

 

Hannibal already knows how this will end. Just as how he avenged Mischa -

 

"You're a stubborn one," Will laughs wetly, uncaring of the bloody ground as Hannibal was cradled in his lap, eyes looking at Will - like the man was his whole world. 

 

It's the last thing either of them see.

 

**[YOU DIED.]**

**[MISSION FAILED - REPLAY?]**

 

**▶[YES]**

**NO**

 

* * *

 

**:: ~~Save~~  Survive Hobbs(Useful Loot Only) **

 

 Again. 

 

Re-enact the same scene, back to where Hannibal is bleeding out and Hobbs senior is dead and Abigail will ambush them while Will, _Will_ -

 

Will holds Hannibal's gaze unflinchingly, one hand helping Hannibal's to staunch the bloodflow as he picked up his gun with surprising calmness and fired in Abigail's direction, not once looking at her.

 

 _Lucky shot,_ Hannibal muses though bleary eyes as he sees red bloom on Abigail's clothes and the thud of her lifeless body and the clatter of a shotgun hitting the ground.

 

Like father, like daughter in the end.

 

"Don't worry, you're safe now," Will coos, like trying to calm a frightened bird.

 

Hannibal only blinks - **Pauses** _ **, Saves**_ \- and _reloads_  the mission once more.

 

* * *

 

 Again.

 

Abigail dies.

 

* * *

 

Again.

 

( _What is going wrong? Is Hannibal not following the script perfectly?_ )

 

* * *

 

Once more, just to confirm a hunch.

 

Perhaps saving Abigail was not the goal?

 

Perhaps -

 

* * *

 

**[Replay mission?]**

▶ **[YES]**

  **[NO]**

 

* * *

 

**:: Save Hobbs(Completionist)**

 

Abigail is looking up at Will, pleading.

 

She wants to live.

 

She doesn't want to die.

 

Like all living things, they all have the baser need of wanting to live; a survival instinct - and Abigail Hobbs, hatchling to a Shrike, was no different.

 

If Will Graham was a better man, he might have been moved to save her. 

 

If it was Hannibal in his place - or her place, Will is certain that things would have gone very differently.

 

Suddenly his vision wavers - and Abigail's form is replaced by one of Hannibal on his lap, bleeding out from a slit throat courtesy of Garrett Hobbs and Will flinches at the cacophony of emotions bombarding him in that instant.

 

Abigail's gasp at the unwitting tightening of fingers on her fragile throat breaks the moment.

 

Will composes himself, tampering his empathy and staring at her dispassionately, unfeeling. Hobbs is not Lecter.

 

Slow, careful footsteps make their way towards them.

 

Will looks up.

 

Hannibal is there, dark eyes taking in the scene with mild surprise. There is no fear or disgust in his eyes and that makes something hungry bloom in his gut. 

 

_He's perfect._

 

"Don't." Will says to the question burning in Hannibal's eyes when he inclines his head towards Abigail.

 

"She doesn't deserve it." _She doesn't deserve your attention, your care or your time. No one does. Only me -_

 

Though Will knows better than to voice his true thoughts and risk scaring Hannibal off.

 

Hannibal blinks, bemused.

 

Will Graham wasn't the heroic person everyone assumed him to be, and both men find themselves comfortable with that discovery.

 

"Hannibal?" 

 

Hannibal listens to his unspoken request - and stays his hand.

 

The subtle way the older man submitted to Will's desire only served to spark his need to hunt. To watch the life of his prey drain out, carve out their flesh and make good use of the undeserving and offer them up in tableaus and scattered clues -

 

On the ground, Abigail Hobbs chokes on her dying breath as blood filled up her lungs, a most painful way to go.

 

Her hope has long been quashed - experiencing her potential savior turning out to be a far more dangerous predator, what's left is a pitying thought for the older blond man.

 

Or maybe they were both monsters that deserved each other, she'd never know.

 

* * *

  **[Mission complete!]**

**[Unlocked Secret Ending; Will's Way]**

**[NPC Abigail Hobbs is unavailable except for special event missions as you were unable to save her.]**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Sorry Hannibal & readers, but Will is too possessive to let Hannibal fuss about some girl when Hannibal could pamper HIM
> 
> *Abigail will still appear in AU modes of the game, but is no longer a part of canon storyline 
> 
> \- Memories of Will's actions in Hannibal's countless Saves may be bleeding over. Oh no. Someone tell Hannibal before -
> 
> ...nevermind too late.


	10. J O B :: Pyschiatrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jobs have a certain criteria to be fufilled to maintain - unlike **Class** , which is permanent, jobs are held much like real life.
> 
> As a **Pyschiatrist** , the duties are much more lenient. Being **Self-Employed** and **Famed** allows you to set your desired mission quotas and have up to 100 patients.
> 
> \- Have at least 5 patients  
> \- Attend to one patient each day  
> \- Have one **Satisfied** patient before the end of the day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah~ Everyone's positivity delights me so! Thank you for all your comments and kudoes as always! I know I rarely respond, but I love to see everyone's thoughts on the story, believe me.
> 
> *will reply when enough liquid courage is imbibed  
>  
> 
> \- To anyone curious on why Will refused to let Abigail live - it's Hannibal's fault. If Hannibal had not increased Will's relationship with him to that extent in that current point of the story, everything would have proceeded as canon. Instead, maxing Will's affection resulted in obssession and the activation of the Secret Ending  
> *remember, more is not necessarily good  
> * Yay! Legit reasoning!

It's 12.45pm. Will Graham is in Baltimore, Maryland outside his pyschiatrist's office. Waiting. The good doctor's appointment with him was supposed to be at 12.50pm sharp but Will can't contain his impatience anymore.

 

He's been longing to get a glimpse of the man after his slaughter of Hobbs - to get rid of the presence of the Shrike skulking around him and replace it with Hannibal's dark eyes and soothing voice.

 

He just values punctuality, he'd tell Hannibal if the man asked. Perhaps Hannibal would try to pick apart his words for a deeper meaning; catlike in curiosity till the cage doors slammed shut on him.

 

Will Graham has been more and more receptive to meeting Hannibal these days, no longer shying away from a man that could probably figure out his darker impulses unlike most others like he did at the start.

 

"Do you find him interesting now?" Hobbs asks, a bloody grin on his face as he paced around the empty waiting room.

 

"I do." Will murmurs to the silence of the room, feeling utterly stupid afterwards.

 

Before Will knows it, he's raising a hand and rapping on the door to Hannibal's office. 

 

 _Lost time again_ , the profiler grumbles to himself. 

 

Hobb's laughter echoes hollowly.

 

There is no response, and Will can't help but think the worst.

 

Hannibal bleeding out, or him unwell and finally succumbing, finally unable to ignore his presumed illness(- _unlikely, but the notion of Doctor Lecter fragile and vulnerable delights the sadist in him_ ).

 

He tries the doorknob.

 

It is unlocked. 

 

Cautiously, Will opens the door, palming his gun, more than willing to murder any potential intruder to endear himself to the fussy socialite and... _promptly blanked out at the sight of his pyschiatrist._

 

Hannibal stared back at him, his normally gelled hair tousled and falling free to create a softer look as he wore a  _daschund-print_  shirt and cargo shorts with  _sandals,_ exposing lean legs and finely-boned dancer's feet.

 

Now, if only Lecter had some rough stubble - then he'd complete the _Sexed-Up-in-Las-_ _Vegas_ look perfectly.

 

Hannibal's mouth fell open, exposing sharp teeth in an unfairly adorable manner.

 

Will slammed the door shut.

 

Fuck his hallucinations. Especially Hannibal. 

 

"Yes, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Hobbs sneered, a digusted expression on his face. "Losing time ravaging your pyschiatrist -"

 

 _"Fuck off!"_ Will snapped, punching thin air, face flushed.

 

A heartbeat or two passed as the profiler tried to will his blush down in time for the door swung open, revealing a bemused Hannibal who was dressed in a three-piece plaid suit, complete with that a paisely tie that probably had some connotation to singing lilies and black roses.

 

"Will? Are you alright? I heard you yelling a moment ago - you seem rather agitated today."

 

"I have been seeing Hobbs _everywhere_." Will admitted.

 

Hannibal nods. "Please come on in then, a discussion is better had when seated and away from prying ears, yes?"

 

Will sighs, nods.

 

_All is right in the world again._

 

* * *

 

Inwardly, Hannibal sighed in relief. Testing out his clothing set during working hours wasn't the wisest thing to do, but at least his **Equip** function and Will's increased hallucinations worked well for a cover up.

 

In Hannibal's defense, he was a little _too_ eager after recieving the **CC: Nigel Ibanescu** set.

 

It was his hard-earned prize after rescuing dogs, counselling gangsters and puzzle-solving during yet another limited time event over the years.

 

Now... if only he could find some excuse to wear them. Hannibal _refused_ to wait till the endgame or Post-Fall just to pull out the wilder looks.

 

Maybe a case of lonely pyschiatrist introduced to an outgoing person who gets him to let loose? Will's jealousy would be a sight to behold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hannibal's a dick, no matter the universe. What's new?
> 
> \- Wanting to see different scenarios? Just comment or prompt me if you're curious~ I'm always open for requests (≧▽≦)


	11. Psychiatry Client 044

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every job has its ups and downs. In psychiatry, while one can choose easy patients, they will not get much rewards. Picking unstable, difficult to work with and even dangerous patients can be highly rewarding... at a risk of course.
> 
> Currently, we have a few S-Rank patients available.
> 
> Also, would you rather a Franklyn or a Verger as your patient?
> 
> .... Verger?
> 
> Wonderful! Mason Verger will be seeing you now -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait. Wrong Verger? Whoops. No takebacks allowed.
> 
> Want to refer him? 
> 
> ....good luck.
> 
> y o u w i l l n e e d i t

If anyone asked, Hannibal _Did Not_ have a Choice in choosing his patients. To fufill his job missions perfectly, he had to have a selection of patients with varying disorders - not just a bunch of depressed individuals, _no sireee_.

 

The serial killers and depressed ones were _depressingly_ easy to get, as were the slew of abused, emotional and disordered victims of the cocktail that Life handed to everyone.

 

Hannibal only lacked clients with truly  **Obsessive** and **Problematic** traits at this point, because most of the people he had met, potential madness or not could have their urges curbed. It was not a  **Trait** they were born with most of the time, which is why those impulses could be culled after extended therapy.

 

At the moment, only two early-game patients met those traits - Franklyn Froideveaux and Mason Verger.

 

The choice was obvious.

 

* * *

 

"I like you a lot, Doctor." Mason purrs, the lewd grin on his face pushing aside any notion of it being non-sexual curiosity.

 

"I cannot say the same." Hannibal replies, side-eyeing the  **[Pedophile]** title atop Mason's head. At least the Verger male paid _very_ well - triple that of what most normally paid, even if he had been referred to by the government and not arrived here of his own volition.

 

Not like Hannibal needed it - nor would he ever forgive the crimes Mason had commited. Sexual assault and abuse, especially on _children_ was a no-no for Hannibal, regardless of when and where.

 

 _I thought you liked diddling little kids?_ Hannibal bit down on the snappy retort, changing his tone to one of mild reprimand.

 

"I am certain you don't mean it platonically-"  - _with that hard on you've got going on there -_ "- and I do believe that I am  _very_  far out of your preferred age range."

 

Mason smiles, toying with his pocketknife. "Physically, yes, but you have a delightfully childish innocence and appeal around you - along with being perfectly legal..."

 

A pause.

 

"Don't you think we'd be perfect together?"

 

"I am your therapist." Hannibal says calmly, cursing the universe for giving him this even more perverted model of Mason Verger. 

 

"That's not a refusal." Mason starts coyly, leaning forward, as if wanting to pounce and devour the other.

 

Hannibal leant back casually, contemplating using his scapel in increasingly creative ways. His carving skills could do with more experience.

 

"It is."

 

Then, "I will not be signing you off anytime if this continues, Mason. In fact, a recommendation to the clinic would be even more fitting."

 

"Ooh, do I get special prescriptions then?" Mason asks in a hushed voice that sounded more like a muffled pig's squeal than the low baritone he might have been going for.

 

 _"Yes._  For free _castration services._  China's authorities have proven that it is very effective with those who cannot control their... baser impulses. I am sure we can find some agreeable to helping you once an explaination is given."

 

If Hannibal thought that this would deter and hopefully offend Mason to agree to a referral, he would be sorely disappointed. 

 

"Mmm, _feisty_ , Doctor Lecter. Is this a new kind of play?"

 

Hannibal quietly prayed for the session to be over already.

 

Where was the speed up button when you needed it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hey hanni rumour says that if u go with verger u get 2 see cAnDyLaND. also, new missions.
> 
> ye or nah?


	12. Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clothes make the man - or the mission, in this case.
> 
> Every character has their own tastes in clothing, so dress favourably to them if you wish to make a good impression on them.
> 
> Certain sets or styles will have effect on the general populace and not just one person, but do take precaution lest you cause a stampede!
> 
> Being chased after gets tiring quickly, as most celebrities will tell you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- In case y'all haven't noticed, Hannibal has tiny shark teeth cause game asthetics. The addition gives him extra buffs(Bleed, Penetration effect etc) but do not actually affect his way of living realistically, much like how adding horns/wings on our in-game avatars don't cause any trouble like they would if considered realistically
> 
> TL;DR - [Sharp Toothed Hanni is my jam. So is Dark!Dom!Will](https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=manga_big&illust_id=59265284&page=1)

**\- Leather**

 

"You look very _good_ , dear doctor. Good enough to eat," a youthful man purred to Hannibal in lieu of introduction, eyes seductive and hungry.

 

"How bold." Hannibal replies, more amused than offended at the man's crudeness. He hears the scandalised gasps from eavesdroppers near him and fights down a chuckle.

 

"Indeed." A sly tongue flicks over the upwards curve of lips. "- and bold enough to ask you to know my name as I do yours, Doctor Fell. I am Anthony Dimmond, happy to be of _service_."

 

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Hannibal murmurs, taking the offered hand and watching curiously as Anthony ran a thumb over his knuckles before bringing it close to kiss the back of his hand.

 

 _What a charmer_ , Hannibal thinks, enjoying the feel of silken lips on his skin.

 

Anthony Dimmond was truly handsome and as he was in the show - and every bit attracted to Hannibal as he was originally.

 

"Somewhere more quieter, away from prying eyes would be for the best, don't you think?" Dimmond cajoles, even as he begins crowding Hannibal to a more secluded area in the party.

 

Going willingly, Hannibal hides a smirk at how overeager Dimmond was, like a puppy given its favourite treat.

 

"Will it be that kind of party?" Hannibal asks, a role reversal of that scene. Dimmond, still holding onto Hannibal's hand, lets out a charming note of laughter at those words.

 

"If that's what you want it to be," the man purred, taking the question as an open invitation.

 

Maybe a little more infatuated than normal, considering how quickly he was advancing on Hannibal.

 

The **Leather Daddy** set worked well... a little  _too_ well, really.

 

Then again, Dimmond's favourite attire on his partner was _**Leather**_ \- and that probably played well into his likes.

 

A long-fingered hand drifted to Hannibal's broad shoulders, brushing gently before stroking at the sharp lines of his jaw.

 

Hannibal blinks, lips open - just as another hand curves just behind his ear to drag him into a heated kiss, forcing a shocked, soft breath of air from his mouth.

 

It was surprisingly delicate, passionate and sensual; a soft press of lips that gradually gained permission to enter and taste the residual alcohol from his mouth and his scent.

 

He doesn't quite appreciate the hand wandering down his pants though.

 

In the vague direction of his back, Hannibal hears something shatter as a warm hand cups the back of his head, but thinks nothing of it.

 

Probably just some careless waiter.

 

* * *

 

**\- Garters**

 

Hannibal was pretty sure that he wasn't meant to play Watson while Will dragged himself to various crime scenes and investigated, but with the array of side missions he accepted, anything was possible.

 

The water sprinkler malfunctioning was unexpected, but the results were worth it.

 

"Doctor Lecter, we've got some spare clothes here, though they may be a little, _hm_ , tight." A technician stuttered, handing Hannibal a soft set of flannel button downs that looked like they were stolen from Will's closet.

 

Her eyes roved over the blouse stuck to the planes of his chest, leaving little to imagination after he had removed his sopping wet waistcoat - inwardly thankful that he had not taken out his coat for this little gathering.

 

"Thank you," Hannibal nodded kindly, sending off the blushing lady with a polite smile.

 

He turned back to face the forensics(- _whose labels interchanged with Team Sassy Science, Team S'mores and a variety of others with surprising speed_ ) and the rest of the FBI and was proud to see that the majority had issues maintaining propriety, with Beverly ogling him shamelessly.

 

Only Jack was completely professional, his loyalty to his wife running deep.

 

Calmly, Hannibal made his way over to them, hiding a smirk when Will moved as if to shield him from the gaze of others while eating him up with his eyes himself.

 

As if distasteful of the wet clothes gluing themselves to him, Hannibal began unbuttoning his blouse, revealing soft, water-darkened hairs of his chest, unashamed of potential nudity.

 

Will gaped before catching himself.

 

"What are you doing?!" He choked, looking torn between dragging his psychiatrist away or bundling him up in his jacket.

 

He ended up opting for a crabwalk-blockade around Hannibal, who inwardly swore he heard disappointed murmuring.

 

"I apologise for causing you discomfort, but there are no changing rooms in the vicinity -" - _and I have nothing to hide._

 

"Does the interior of the police van count?" Will asked with near desperation.

 

Hannibal nods slowly. 

 

He is promptly directed to the most spacious van they have. 

 

Quickly stripping off his clothes, Hannibal folds them neatly before putting on his new set. It was a tight fit, which allowed Hannibal the excuse of leaving a button or two undone.

 

Also, the above knee length shorts helped to show off his calves and sock garters nicely.

 

Combing his hair back roughly, Hannibal then stepped out of the van to enjoy the show.

 

* * *

 

**\- Lace**

 

Hannibal was contemplating kneeing Anthony is the groin and counting his experiment a success when his danger senses began tingling. Literally.

 

**_Ping!_ **

**[Danger Sense has levelled up by 1.]**

 

"Will," Hannibal greets, relief evident in his eyes at the other's intrusion. The fury in those brown eyes for Hannibal's sake makes something warm and fuzzy grow in his chest.

 

Anthony Dimmond's hands that were busily migrating down his pants paused, only to continue with renewed enthusiasm till Hannibal pinched the latter. Hard.

 

"Why, Doctor, are you feeling shy?" Anthony purred. "I don't mind if your friend were to join us..."

 

Will took in the uncharacteristic haze in Hannibal's eyes and his flushed cheeks and erupted in righteous fury at his psychiatrist being taken advantage of.

 

Again. As if the kiss the other time wasn't enough, this stupid twink seemed to want every bit of Hannibal, chasing the man to each and every gathering.

 

Not anymore, if Will had his way.

 

"What do you think you're doing?" Will growls. "I'd advise you to get your hands off my doctor, _sir_." 

 

"Oooh, possessive much?" Dimmond chuckles, but the strained tone doesn't go unnoticed.

 

Wisely removing roaming hands from Hannibal's being, the man parts with a final caress of the former surgeon's waist, unhelpfully exposing the red lace of Hannibal's underwear.

 

Dimmond was no killer, but prey that could sense the predator lurking behind Will's mask, even if the latter lacked his blades or dogs at the moment.

 

It's only Hannibal's presence and importance that keeps Will from hunting the other man who dared touch what was his. Another time, Will comforts himself, feasting his eyes on his ruffled _friend_.

 

"Thank you," Hannibal sighs out, combing his hair back to some semblance of neatness. It only served to make Hannibal more enticing in Will's opinion.

 

"I... I did not expect for Anthony to be so forward. I must apologise for letting down my guard and thank you for coming to my rescue, dear Will."

 

The endearment slipping out from Hannibal's loosened tongue branded itself into his mind, the seams of a carefully composed veneer falling apart into roughened accent and softer looks - all would be stored for Will's fantasies.

 

However, Will did not miss the way Hannibal addressed that man with such fondness and makes his decision to kill Dimmond when opportunity came. As if Will would allow the man another shot into Hannibal's house, his clothes or his _life_.

 

Normally deft hands fumbling at rumpled pants in an attempt to button up and cover the silken lace panties didn't help Will's lustful inhibitions any.

 

Said lingerie were fire engine red, which Will's complexion was taking on at the moment.

 

"That- you're -" Will stuttered, a complete mess. Panties. Hannibal. In. Lace.

 

 _"Why?"_ He finally enunciates with much difficulty.

 

"Lace, yes. I simply find it pleasant on my skin and I take pride in my masculinity to not shirk away from comfortable things due to society's percieved notions of femininity."

 

"Hrngh," Will agrees, mind conjuring up images of Hannibal in his house, comfortable and relaxed in silken robes, lace garments and stockings clinging to his form like a second skin. 

 

"Also, my psychiatrist recommended them for extra luck."

 

Will Graham silently prayed for strength.

 

* * *

 

The first time Will catches Hannibal showing any kind of interest in anyone other than him stirs his jealousy.

 

Alana Bloom and her crush on the good doctor is irritating enough; he doesn't need the addition of socialites and smarmy rich kids, _thank you very much._

 

The lurid desires of that annoying man makes Will reel whenever he even looks at him, makes Will wonder how Hannibal could not read the blatant lust exuding from that - that **_animal_**.

 

He wishes that they were in a seedy club. No one would care if a person or two got into an altercation. Or disappeared.

 

Too many eyes here, with the _elites_ of society keeping a lookout for juicy gossip and the undercover FBI watching out for any signs of their current killer for the week.

 

Featuring Doctor Lecter as prime bait for some bullshit reasoning everyone's favourite Crawdad had come up with.

 

When Hannibal, clad in leather and mildly buzzed begins to follow the same man to some quiet spot, Will follows, poaching a glass of wine from a passing server. 

 

He gives the excuse of ensuring Hannibal's safety and hopes that the man would turn out to be their criminal - which would give Will plenty of reasons to rough him up.

 

It's not as he expected. 

 

The stupid ponce had somehow coerced Hannibal into kissing him, a hand gripping the back of his head, ruffling up his psychiatrist's hair while the other began exploring under Hannibal's clothes. 

 

 _Will hadn't even gotten a chance to do any of that yet!_ To think that his doctor's firsts were being taken away by undeserving perverts - never mind the fact that Hannibal never said that he was a virgin; Will's imagination supplied the rest.

 

Strangulation sounded pretty wonderful at the moment. Wrapping his hands around Dimmond's neck and _squeezing_ till his eyes _popped_ -

 

The wineglass in Will's hand shatters, causing those around him to either titter or back away as the red liquid stained his clothes and the floor.

 

Beverly, ever the saint, helpfully corrals Will away before he could commit murder. 

 

In Will's eyes, dark wine becomes that bold prick's blood as he yanks him off Hannibal and scored his face with the glass so that no one would ever look at him again; thinks of bloodying the intruder with his fists and claiming Hannibal in the blood, marking and fucking him in the crowd to show them all who the Lithuanian belonged to.

 

Beverly calls his name once, twice - and Will looks up, pasting an apologetic smile and excusing himself from the party.

 

They can catch this killer without him.

 

* * *

 

The second time is when others show interest in his psychiatrist, who was too oblivious or catering to the desires of those around him.

 

Will would never voice aloud his gratitude at the broken sprinkler that soaked Hannibal thoroughly, showing off the corded muscles of his biceps and the firm set of his chest after he removed his waistcoat.

 

He also notes the Lithuanian's toned ass and the way soaked clothes revealed hardened pink nubs showing through his white blouse when he removed his dripping vest. 

 

What Will didn't appreciate was the multitude of people who took advantage of that to ogle _his_ doctor.

 

He was more than happy to give Hannibal his coat(- _not so when it was rejected_ ) and even _more_  delighted when the man agreed to donning the spare flannel clothes(- _which gave life to the thought of how the other would look like in his clothes_ ), but he cursed whatever power out there for leaving Hannibal shorts instead of a neat pair of dress slacks.

 

At least they cupped Hannibal's behind and showed off those _long_ legs nicely.

 

 _Jesus fuck_ were those sock garters? Who the hell wore sock garters in this day and age?

 

Hannibal Lecter apparently.

 

A wet Hannibal in casual wear was a sight to behold - and would fuel Will's fantasies for a good time. The unexpected but oddly fitting set of garters did not help Will's burgeoning erection.

 

Preening under the attention, Hannibal sauntered out, raising his arms from his sides and doing a heel turn reminescent of a posing dancer for his inspection, amusement dancing in burgundy eyes.

 

Judging by the wolf-whistling, Beverly and Jimmy approved of the playful flirtation. Zeller showed no overt signs of attraction to his not-cannibal, but Will still made a note to defend Hannibal from any of Team S'mores' future machinations now that Hannibal's sexiness had been revealed to the world at large. Not that Lecter needed any protection, but he was sure his presence would be appreciated.

 

Really, all they needed was Freddie Lounds to snap several pictures and Will's day would be complete.

 

Like a gentleman, he stands guard to prevent anymore unfortunate incidents from occurring.

 

It was more out of possessiveness than true concern, which Will admits shamelessly, but seeing Hannibal in _his_ style made something warm bloom in Will's belly.

 

"Doctor Sexy Legs is in the house!" Beverly cheered when Hannibal was out of sight. Not out of hearing range though.

 

Will didn't doubt for a moment that Hannibal heard it loud and clear with those freakish senses of his, even if he gave no indication.

 

At least Beverly was not a rival for Hannibal's attention, so he would not need to think of some way to remove her from the race without drawing unwanted attention.

 

* * *

 

The _third_ time Hannibal shows interest in anyone other than Will is when he was drunk. By now, Will's jealousy has simmered into something darker and more possessive, even if he will never admit it.

 

Will really regretted telling Hannibal how uninteresting the man was.

 

His reverse psychology backfired and it was like  _everyone_ knew and capitalised on that.

 

Like a pest, the Dimmond man appeared wherever he was not wanted and was cosying up to Lecter, who had the reputation of being more suggestible when well-liquored.

 

In a blink of an eye, when Will had just reached his quota of liquid courage and was about to confront the man and get his psychiatrist back, both men were gone.

 

Worry and anger sobered Will up quickly as he began searching for them discreetly, finally locating them in a guest bedroom, with Dimmond intent of peeling the clothes off a resisting Hannibal.

 

Righteous fury poured through Will as he barged in, especially when Hannibal's gratitude and relief poured in through his enhanced empathy.

 

 _"Will,"_ Hannibal gasps, one hand resting on Dimmond's chest to push him away while the other was trying to keep his pants up and fend off the touchy male's wandering hands.

 

Will's eyes were drawn by the flash of red when Dimmond's hand retreated after a sharp pinch from a disapproving Hannibal and was greeted by the sight of _lace lingerie_ covering Hannibal's private bits.

 

It was a sentence he never expected to string together.

 

Outrage and hunger warred in Will. Firstly, _what the fuck was Hannibal thinking?_ Secondly, why the hell did other people always get the first shot at his beautiful not-cannibal maybe-boyfriend?

 

_Because he ain't yours yet, idjit -_

 

 _Fuck_ , his inner Jack was right. 

 

God, that was something becoming more apparent(- _and horrifying_ ).

 

Chasing away Dimmond and getting Hannibal's explanation for his lacy wear did not help at all.

 

Will truly dreaded the thought of Hannibal being able to distinguish _excitement_ and _arousal_ through his olfactories.

 

Really? What on earth was his psychiatrist thinking? Believing another person once the therapy flag was waved?

 

But then again, maybe if Will confessed needing some unconventional therapy, Hannibal might be more than willing to accommodate his _needs_...

 

After all, the good doctor lets him get away with everything despite Will's rudeness - and he can't deny the curiosity to see how far he could push his limits to, _or if there was even one._

 

* * *

 

Perhaps Will was starting to catch on to Hannibal's bullshit.

 

Or maybe not. The man was all too happy to see Hannibal in various states of undress _and_ distress(- _very kinky_ ), so the doctor was kind enough to oblige. 

 

At least those undies were comfortable and did have excellent stats, so he really had to thank Bedelia for the relationship milestone gift, even if she claimed it was a gag gift.

 

Anthony Dimmond was an amusing distraction, with his 75% chance of appearing in any gathering Hannibal attends due to their high **Affection** level.

 

Still, it didn't mean Hannibal would be going any further with Dimmond apart from rather intimate flirting.

 

He would much rather have Will there, whispering charmingly dirty things to him in a bespoke suit; for his first time to be with Will Graham, however improbable the dream was.

 

The callous side of him wonders on what would it take for his Graham Cracker to crumble.

 

Would it result in utter insanity or the dark, possessive Will of his darkest desires that was suave, confident and dominant? The latter would truly be  _splendid_.

 

He forms plan after plan, coming up with outlandish scenarios all the better to rile Will up. It's funny, how lonely Hannibal is despite all his socialising, just like then, he is still so very alone.

 

No one could understand him the way Will Graham could.

 

_Dear Will, what would it take for you to notice me?_

 

_What would it take for you to be with me like you would in my dreams?_

He would beg, but it would be pointless. William Graham had to emerge from his becoming of his own volition; any interference from Hannibal would only result in divided feelings later on in life and Hannibal would never have that.

 

Hannibal could wait.

 

He had no pressing obligations(- _not with Abigail dead_ ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Introducing Anthony Dimmond, current title holder of _[Scarf Dad]_  
>  *pls pray for his well-being 
> 
> ****  
> I N V E N T O R Y  
>   
> 
>  **Leather Daddy Set**  
>  \- 2 Items = +10 CHA  
> \- 3 Items = +10 CHA, +5 STR, +3 AGI  
> \- 5 Items = +20 CHA, +3 to all stats
> 
>  **Sock Garters**  
>  +10 CHA  
> +7 LUK  
> +3 SPD
> 
>  **Red Silk Garment**  
>  +20 CHA  
> +25 LUK  
> +10%


	13. D E A T H 一  S T R A N D I N G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Give me your hand in life._
> 
>   
>  _Give me your hand in death._
> 
>   
>  _Give me your hand in flesh._
> 
>   
>  _Give me your hand in spirit._
> 
> **Tomorrow is in your hands**  
> 

Will Graham is going mad. 

 

Well, more than usual at least.

 

He has never needed any help with his empathy issues, no matter what others thought, but lately, his brain had been disagreeing.

 

Occasionally, the criminals he hunted would slip into his mind as he lived; something that was once controllable but was getting out of hand as the days went on. The hallucinations seeping into his daily life was not appreciated too, no matter how realistic.

 

 _Dreams,_  plush lips had explained, pink tongue curling, tasting the word like it was something sacred,  _are said to be a revelation of our innermost desires._

 

 _What do you dream of, Doctor Lecter?_ Will would have questioned if only he had seized the chance back then.

 

_Am I in your dreams like the way you stalk into mine?_

 

He can only imagine Hannibal's answer.

 

 _Is this payment for my sins?_  Will wonders when Hannibal speaks of Gods and karmic debts and destruction.

 

He could not help but imagine, even as his mind churns out nightmarish scenarios and fantasies from the wildest reaches.

 

Hannibal is the main star in his visions ever since Will was graced with his presence.

 

In reality, Hannibal is the soft-spoken psychiatrist with nerves of steel and a cultured demeanour. A gentleman. Polite, charming when he needed to be and not vulnerable in the least.

 

But there is that potential for darkness that draws Will to him. The sleek well-fed predator that Will can see hiding under all that manner and wealth.

 

He is so very certain that Lecter is more than he seems.

 

In his dreams, Hannibal is a killer, a beast, a willing slave; open, pliant and begging under him. _Beautiful._

 

A crown of antlers cradle him - curling across his wrists and ankles to pin them to the velvety bed.

 

Divested of all his clothes, exposing miles of tanned flesh and muscle and the vulnerable softness of his belly -

 

For him.

 

Muscular calves are splayed out on silken bedsheets as Will thrusts  _in_ , his nails biting deep into sun-kissed skin and -

 

 _Give me your hand in life,_  Hannibal gasps, dark eyes like fine burgundy, entwining his bound hands with Will's; letting him hold him down.

 

A surprisingly chaste kiss is pressed to the slope of Will's cheek when he leans down to press his forehead against Hannibal's.

 

 _Give me your hand in death -_  a plea, when the branching antlers puncture through lungs and bones to exit Hannibal's body like fan coral growth; rendering him immobile like a pinned butterfly.

 

Will's cruel fingers imprinted bruises like morbid flowers onto a sun-kissed canvas - just before the blade of his linoleum knife slices through Hannibal's vulnerable throat. 

 

In his nightmares, Hannibal reverses their positions, breaking free of his bonds and straddling Will to sink down on his cock.

 

Tight, molten heat surrounds Will, like the hellfire he can see in Hannibal's burgundy eyes looking down on him as he rode him, taking his own pleasure without care for Will's needs.

 

Will comes to Hannibal's welcome heat and howls, head thrown back only for Hannibal to tear out his exposed throat with a toothy maw.

 

Blood coats Hannibal's lips like fine gloss, spills down his chin and the line of his neck and Will empties himself into him.

 

_(It's beautiful.)_

 

 _Give me your hand in flesh,_  Hannibal sighs, maroon eyes glinting like rubies when Will puts his hands around his neck and  _squeezes_.

 

Soft whimpering puts an ache low in Will's belly, making him growl involuntarily. In some instances, he would draw Hannibal closer, warming him and calming him with soft strokes along the back of Hannibal's neck.

 

"Please..." Hannibal would sigh, exposed and vulnerable, unresistant, mewling and panting as Will took his pound of flesh and wrung the life from him.

 

_(It's all I have ever wanted -)_

 

Jewelled bangles and anklets adorn Hannibal's limbs to match the collar and bruises around his throat and hips, tinkering prettily as Will ensnared him tighter till full lips parted and spit up bloodied petals of carnations and lilies.

 

He never lets go, not even when glassy eyes gaze up at him and Hannibal's limbs go slack. The bruising rings his neck like a collar.

 

 _Give me your hand in spirit -_  the tone in a rumbling growl as an array of hands from the criminals he has killed and profiled alike crawls out from a growing ocean of blood, grasping at them both - seeking to bring them both into the depths of hell, drowning him, drowning them both.

 

Will chokes in rotting blood and black tar as Hannibal is ripped away at the last moment when the vision fades from his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 "I think I'm going mad," Will says, when he hallucinates a fine wreath of antlers sprouting from Hannibal's temples to curl around like an ivory crown as the man set about preparing them coffee.

 

 _Breakfast would be served if Will was willing to wait_ while Hannibal puttered around the kitchen, making breakfast like a perfect housewife.

 

An _exemplary_ wife; taking care of housework, good at cooking, listening and understanding - 

 

It's a traditional courtship, Will realises with startling clarity, his mind oddly clear and free of distracting thoughts.

 

"Will?" Hannibal's concerned voice snaps him from his musings.

 

\- _servicing her husband, getting him off with those plush lips -_

 

"Y-yeah?"

 

\- _wearing nothing but a ruffled apron, bent over the counter or on his lap warming his cock while he ate -_

 

"- deep down, we are all a little mad." 

 

Will cracks a smile at that.

 

"Besides, I have never found any value in a sane mind," Hannibal tells him coyly, setting down a perfectly plated egg Benedict(- _Florentine_ ) in front of him.

 

Well, if that isn't a green light for Will to begin his courtship then nothing is. He would never decline his doctor, not after he had gone through such trouble to cater to his needs, knowingly or not.

 

It wouldn't do to be rude after all, right?

 

 _(See me, Hannibal - **this is my design**_.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- my lil' tribute to hideo kojima, the biggest stan for Mads Mikkelsen
> 
> \- 100+ kudos before a thousand views; that's a new record! as always, I am very grateful for all your comments, kudos and views - I always look forward to interacting and seeing more of y'all
> 
> \- daily dose of gory hallucinations? checkity checkity check CHECK _check_  
>  *the sensuality is just a plus
> 
>  
> 
> **PSA: DEATH STRANDING will be released on 8th November 2019 and MADS MIKKELSEN will be in it - are y'all looking forward to it? I know I am~**


	14. Confession ㄧ oo1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got rejected? 
> 
> That's so sad. Alexa, play _Despacito_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- alas, confessions don't quite work out if Hannibal is a Fannibal
> 
> \- chapter 6 has been edited and detailed further to make the wording flow more smoothly  
> * that's the price you pay for writing an entire story on mobile and with negative amounts of tea  
> *hope y'all enjoy the new bits

_Now is better than never,_ Will's reasoning for gathering up his courage after indulging in some good ol' bloodshed with his dogs and allowing the cockiness from this week's serial killer into his mind.

 

"I don't see you as a friend, Hannibal." 

 

 _Great start there, Graham_ \- Will chides himself - _perhaps you'd like to get into a fistfight as foreplay and fuck in the remains of Hannibal's suit?_

 

That... should not have been arousing as it was.

 

"I feel the same way too, Will," Hannibal admits coyly, much to everyone's surprise.

 

"Really?" Will murmurs, eyes wide and hopeful as the agents around him cooed their approval of the change in their relationship. 

 

 _How wonderful_ , many thought at the very public confession - and money began changing hands. Popcorn was crunched, because Americans are always prepared for drama.

 

"Yes," Hannibal smiles gently. "I see you as a little brother. Isn't that what a bromance is? Little brother and big brother?"

 

Someone choked in the background.

 

Stray kernel probably.

 

Petting Will's shoulder in a show of comfort, Hannibal wandered off to a beckoning Jack, absently wondering on the thousand-mile stare the empath had.

 

 _Childhood issues_ , Hannibal decides grimly, resolving to focus more on the poor Graham Cracker.

 

Poor guy needed more love.

 

* * *

 

"Wow." Beverly whistled lowly as Hannibal strutted away in a way that showed off the perkiness of his derriere.

 

"Very nice. Er, not for you though," Beverly added in, her sympathetic glance bouncing off a blank Will.

 

"Instant bro-zone."

 

The words cut deep.

 

"Worst kind of friendzone if I've ever seen one."

 

 _Very_ deep.

 

Will had a sudden existential crisis and fought hard to not give into the urge to curl up and get Hannibal to carry him back home.

 

Unfortunately, he suceeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- inspired by a interview of mads seeing bromance as a big bro looking after a lil' bro  
> *nobody shatter that innocence or we will be having tongue tartare i promise _there will be a reckoning_  
>  ** then again, mikkelsen _has_ admitted to reading porny Hannibal fanfics...
> 
> \- hey dude, if you're reading this, i look forward to seeing you in a video game and in RL if i'm lucky enough
> 
> \- everyone else, keep being awesome - love y'all


	15. Familiar System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Familiars can be found or ascended from animals you bond with closely. Assigned familiars can be kept on hand in your dimensional Sanctuary or at the Stables if you have the required properties.
> 
> Mythical familiars appear during events but they can be gained from ascending regular animals from their base bloodline.
> 
> Familiars can be released and recaptured, but please be considerate and not release animals in their non-native habitats!  
> * Kappa invasions are Not Funny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *also featuring therapy and Will's POV
> 
> *bottom Hannibal day is coming soon~ I vow to contribute to this wonderful society

"Dr. Lecter, do you like dogs?"

 

"I do."  _I have always been an animal person. Using Tibetian Mastiffs to guard my castle in Lithuania for example._  Hannibal nods slowly, delight twinkling in his eyes. "- though I am partial towards animals in general; they are more honest than humans after all."

 

"Precisely!" Will nodded eagerly before catching himself. "Dogs for example, they give everything they have and expect little. Most people are the opposite."

 

"Your empathy enhances the negative emotions more than positive, doesn't it?"

 

"Yeah," Will sighs gustily. "Humans feel negative emotions more strongly than positive ones. Animals feel too, but they are honest."

 

"Indeed," Hannibal agreed placidly, radiating nothing but calm and contentment.

 

"You're not the same though, Doctor."

 

"Why not? Am I not like the _rest_ of the populace?"  _\- blind sheep awaiting slaughter at a butcher's?_

 

"No. You... control your emotions very well. I don't get overwhelmed when I'm with you. Your emotions aren't intrusive." Will chews on his bottom lip, hesitant. 

 

"Well..." Hannibal leans forward, Will mirroring the movement.

 

Mere inches seperate their lips and Hannibal imagines Will hastily getting up an initiating accidental contact, brushing those soft lips against his.

 

He wonders if he imagines Will's hunger and the heated gaze on his mouth. 

 

"Discipline is something I value," Hannibal whispers, inclining his head to the curve of the other's ear, as if imparting a great secret. 

 

He feels Will's curls brush against his cheek, a phantom kiss of what would have been if Will turned his head at that moment.

 

However, Will stayed frozen, even after Hannibal backed off.

 

Lecter vaguely wondered whether the game was glitching out on him again.

 

Well, as long as Will didn't end up clipping through furniture or walls, Hannibal didn't really care.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal gets introduced to Will's pets officially when the man was admitted to the hospital for encephalitis after a series of unfortunate events(- _all the scenarios of which Hannibal had played out and saved for times should he get bored_ ). 

 

He had already met Will's canines on his previous visits and dates with the man, though this would be the first time he got to interact with them by his lonesome.

 

 _Dog babysitting_ , as Jack had put it succintly, muttering something about compensation for lost hours and grumpy profilers.

 

Of course, the dogs were on **Friendly** terms with him - something Hannibal had made sure to cultivate with constant **Petting** and handmade **Dog Treats** that also had the effect of gradually paving the way for the pooches into potential **Hellhounds**.

 

Now with Will out of the picture, Hannibal could safely ascend the dogs without interference so that they could better protect Will. Nevermind the fact that Will was higher levelled than Hannibal, for the older did not believe that higher **Levels** equalled to more power or skill.

 

It also had the benefit of filling out his **Notes** as he had never ascended a **Dog** into a **Hellhound** before due to specific bloodline requirements and conditions. 

 

As the mutts gathered around him to beg for scratches once more, Hannibal began pulling out his stuff for the ascending.

 

Will would need all the protection he could get from the various serial killers - especially the notorious Chesapeak Ripper that Hannibal was not.

 

( _To Hannibal's surprise, Will didn't seem to notice the differences in his dogs. He seemed even more happier with them - which made Hannibal so very pleased by extent._ )

 

He ignores the little voice in mind whispering _what if...._

 

* * *

 

Will couldn't help but wonder whether Hannibal was aware of the strange variety of critters that followed him around.

 

One being a demonic horse that Hannibal apparently named after the Roman Emperor and was staring him down as it rested its massive head on Hannibal's shoulder.

 

Ruby red eyes glared down at Will as horribly sharp teeth accepted a sliced of apple with surprising grace, thick puffs of smoke emitting from the beast's muzzle as it chewed.

 

 _A nightmare_ , Will thinks, and fights down a burst of hysteric laughter when Hannibal introduced the horse as a  _Nightmare_.

 

"Isn't he sweet?" Hannibal croons, leaning into the equine's thickly muscled neck. 

 

If only Hannibal would look at Will like that...

 

Sharp teeth grin at him mockingly.

 

 _Fuck_ , that horse was really asking for a beating. Will has got his cannibalistic dogs and his skills, but how can he compare to this stupid thing that crawled out from Hell?!

 

As Will was considering a showdown between his dogs and this walking terror, another of Hannibal's pets made themselves known. 

 

"Greetings, bitches!" The bird shrieked. "Daddy-O's _back!_ Who's a pretty boy?"

 

It was that hot pink, talking moluccan cockatoo, something which Will was pretty sure wasn't possible until he met Hannibal's not so little collection of animals.

 

He doesn't deign to tell Hannibal about their oddidities though, chalking it off to his delusions. Besides, for all of their ferociousness, Will sensed no intent to harm Lecter.

 

Will himself on the other hand...

 

(- _was fair game_.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To ascend Dog into Hellhound requires the following::  
> ¬Abused Trait(on Dog)  
> ¬Forbidden Meat(×10)  
> ¬Demonic Ritual(×1)  
> ¬Familiar Contract(×1)  
> ¬Hellfire(×1)  
> ¬Ceberus's Blood(×1)
> 
> *oh hanni you idiot, do you think that Will's really a sad ptsd mess that requires protection 24/7? you fool -
> 
>    
> \- Caesar is Hannibal's horse in the books - and therefore Gamer!Hanni's first pet in this verse. To allow Caesar to be his familiar permanently, Hannibal ascended the Horse into a Nightmare by completing a series of Halloween Quests  
> *only those with a sixth sense/traits relating to the Other Side can glimpse the true forms of the supernatural
> 
> -Hannibal keeps the crass moluccan around for two main reasons. 1) It's a lurid pink - a legendary color obtainable only on Valentine Day, 2)It's rudeness helps Hannibal to screw with people(namely Will)  
> *Daddy O, with O standing for Orgasms.


	16. R E F E R R A L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cancelled meetings lead to delayed meetings. All of our actions have consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- My lil' contribution for Bottom Hannibal Day
> 
> \- This is a pre-canon AU of what would have happened when Hannibal picked Mason Verger as his cilent and did not complete the all of the mission objectives for transferring Verger to another psychiatrist.  
>  ***Mason Verger is Not Nice. Warnings for abuse, non-con, torture, unhealthy relationships and branding. Tags are there for a reason, so don't say I didn't warn ya~**

When Hannibal fufilled Mason's basic therapy requirements, he decides to switch out the male Verger for the female Verger via _Referral_. 

 

He was only allowed one Verger patient at a time by the **System** \- and Hannibal decided on Margot Verger as the male Verger was proving more trouble than he was worth. No wonder the original ended up letting Mason's face get eaten off. 

 

If Hannibal only had Mason, things would have gone alright. However the patient combination of a neurotic Franklyn and destructive Verger would drive him into a monastic seclusion with their horrid attitudes, no matter how rare of an acheivement he got for picking them both...

 

_It just wasn't worth it._

 

His ruined furniture and rising stress levels were proof enough. Hannibal didn't need additional balding on top of it all. So what if this was a game? He treasured his hair very much, thank you.

 

Margot was obviously better company, easily influenced by his standards and more than useful in taking Mason out of the picture - not that Hannibal could guarantee any of that as he had  _not_  the chance of meeting her yet, but he doubted she'd have any big changes in this reality.

 

He admits that he was in a rush, which was what started off the following string of events.

 

 _To think that he'd still have to wait a good year before Jack would supposedly introduce him to Will...._ Hannibal sighs, pulling out Verger's referral papers and settled down for the wait.

 

Hannibal _supposed_ he could try teaching in the Academy if everything worked out with Verger. It'd be a better shot for his Graham Cracker rather than sitting around like an idiot.

 

Still, he preferred not messing up canon and render his future knowledge useless anytime soon.

 

* * *

 

Mason was _Not Pleased._

 

No shocker there. The glaring red of his close to negative relationship levels with Hannibal emphasised it unecessarily in Hannibal's opinion.

 

What was shocking would be the _lack_ of violent protest or abuse that had occurred to Mason's past therapists, all whom were suspiciously dead or in a vegetative state.

 

"Dear _Hannibal_ , are you playing hard to get?" Verger _crooned_ in falsetto - a sentence Hannibal never thought to put together before now.

 

"Please, Mason -"

 

"Do continue to beg," Mason giggled.

 

"- I am your psychiatrist, not a love interest."

 

"Oh, you are so much more than that, _Hanni~"_

 

Hannibal felt mildly ill. He considered reporting his unease to Jack and get Will stationed with him to -

 

"Don't worry your sharp cheekbones about anything, _Doctor_. I'll be back soon."

 

With that ominous sentence, Mason snatched up the papers and flounced out of his office in a manner that reminded Hannibal of a swine playing at grandeur rather than the pompous outlook he was probably going for.

 

No upholstery was ruined this time at least.

**[Unable to save.]**

 

The message that came up when he tried to **Save** this portion of the game worried him.

 

When did he miss the cue? 

 

To think he was stuck in a crucial point without any ability to reload short of restarting the entire mission _from scratch_...

 

Sighing, Hannibal began packing up, thankful that Mason was the final patient of the day when -

**_Ping!_ **

**[Escape in 3 minutes.]**

 

Hannibal frowned. Since when did he activate any such quest? 

 

Still, he didn't come this far by ignoring his system. Keeping everything into his inventory _neatly_ , Hannibal departed from his office hurriedly, locking the door and entering his Bentley with haste - _graceful_ haste.

 

**_Ping!_ **

**[Escape success.]**

 

The lack of any rewards was no surprise, but a grim confirmation of more to come. 

 

Perhaps after evading capture several more times they'd give up?

 

* * *

 

Apparently not.

 

**_Ping!_ **

**[Escape success.]**

 

Evaded several black cars that seemed to be trailing him.

 

**_Ping!_ **

**[Escape success.]**

 

Had to move out of his hard-earned house after several days when several Men In Black began surveying the area. Hannibal could only hope nothing would be ruined when he returned.

 

**_Ping!_ **

**[Escape success.]**

 

Found bugs of the electronic variety in hotel room. No thanks.

 

**[Escape success.]**

 

There was no end in sight.

 

Hannibal was tired. He couldn't **Save** , **Reload** or do _anything_ to end this chase. The police enforcement were useless as always and what he suspected to be Mason's men were always on point to wherever he went to - like an unavoidable event.

 

Wait... _unavoidable_  event?

 

 _What a waste of time._ Groaning, Hannibal buried his face in his plush hotel pillows as he rested his weary body for the night.

 

Thankfully, Verger's men at least had the courtesy this time to wait for him to complete his morning rituals before knocking him out.

 

* * *

 

Contrary to popular belief, Hannibal was neither traumatised nor shocked into obedience by his abduction.

 

Besides waking up briefly while being transported while muzzled, blindfolded with his limbs bound together like a particularly exotic slave - and wasn't _that_ a nice image - _no dangling upside down like swine carcasses, thank you very much -_ Hannibal was not harmed at all.

 

Hannibal recalled his kidnapping in flashes of images - from car trunk to modified suitcase and someone's hand messing up his hair -

 

No pyjama party for him thankfully.

 

Hannibal woke up to find himself naked, trussed up like human livestock in quarantine - forced to kneel in soft straw with a bit pushing down on his tongue, padded collar around his neck keeping him in place with ropes threaded through its loops to various pillars of his cage, much like his cuffed limbs.

 

Open and vulnerable; ready for inspection, like a prized show animal offered up to their purchaser.

 

He shifts, testing the strength of his bindings.

 

No give. Verger's henchmen could tie good knots, so there went the _Loose Bindings cliché._

 

No matter, it's not a big issue for a man who could rewind time in a sense. He is unashamed of his nudity and his position... just  _annoyed_ by his most recent announcement.

 

**[Escape failed.]**

**[You have been captured after 23 successful escape attempts.**

**As such, security has been set to HARD difficulty.**

**Good luck escaping!]**

 

_Maybe I shouldn't have tried evading them so many times..._

 

He only regrets not being able to meet Will.

 

* * *

 

The click-clack of leather shoes on stone in the hallway leading to his cell and not so roomy holding pen is loud to Hannibal's sharp senses.

 

The doors unlocked with a series of noises, revealing the Verger Heir in all his piggish glory. God, was that a pink and _green_ polka-dotted tie? 

 

 _Ugh_.

 

At least the man wasn't toting a piglet around like that was the latest fashion trend.

 

_Obilgatory I-got-you-now-princess speech._

 

 "Ah, Hanni, _soooooo_ glad to see that you're responding well after all those sedatives. ODing a fine specimen like you would be _such_ a pity," Mason laughed, striding to Hannibal's cage, intent on inspecting his catch properly now that Hannibal was lucid and awake. 

 

_Knew it._

 

Greedy eyes feasted on his naked form, and Hannibal could feel hot eyes taking in the tense line of his back and the swell of his ass.

 

"Mmm, good amount of tension and restraints - perfect for holding boars - not that you're one; you're an exotic beast of _unmatched_ quality for sure..." A gloved hand reached through the bars to pet his flank, prodding gently at his ribs.

 

"Very nice." Verger muttered, sauntering about to grasp his chin with gloved hands, twisting it this way and that to Hannibal's disdain, making the collar dig into the tender flesh of his neck.

 

Hannibal flinched at the cool leather of Mason's gloves, brow creasing in disapproval as he was fondled and groped at. 

 

"Lean," Verger muttered, slipping a knife from his pocket to jab into Hannibal's back, testing the fat to flesh ratio out of habit. He pets the surrounding area in mock apology, tucking away the bloodstained blade.

 

Hannibal doesn't even bat an eye, having inflicted worser pain on himself before.

 

"- well-fed as expected, being able to prepare and _glut_ yourself on the finest delicacies," he continued, tucking the blade away to stroke at Hannibal's side and underbelly, admiring its softness. 

 

"I'm certain that you would be _heavenly_ should I consume you. Foie gras, blood pudding, tongue tartare - all are such _delicious_ choices, Hanni. I'd make sure to make it last as long as possible of course. No part of you shall go to waste."

 

_Mason might just be a cannibal. What is it with everyone but me turning out to be cannibals?_

 

Hannibal hissed in discomfort, drool slipping from his open mouth when the hand drops down to grasp at his flaccid cock, suddenly all too aware of how everything was veering straight into non-con territory.

 

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so hasty in selecting the R-18 option?

 

"Well-endowed too, _heh_ , though you won't be impregnating anything anytime soon." Mason finished with a rough tug at his gentials. 

 

Hannibal grunts, hands clenching into fists when Mason's hand left to pinch his ass, travelling down to touch his hole. 

 

"On the other hand..."

 

"Are you a virgin, doctor? Have you ever played with your ass before? A finger or two before going to bed or a nice, fat plug." Gloved fingers rubbed at his rim and Hannibal jerked, leg making to nail Verger in the eye, only to be halted by the ropes binding him.

 

"You'll be so pretty once you're all collared up and trained." Mason sighed longingly. "God, I can't wait to see you take a fist or a _knot_."

 

Hannibal's brow twitched in distaste as he worried on the bit, somehow conveying  _what the fuck_ wordlessly.

 

Mason giggled disturbingly. "Awww, don't worry, _Hanni_ , we won't breed you so early. I'll play nice. Wouldn't want to stress out my darling pet after all. Enemas can be cleansing and _fun,_ you know."

 

Hannibal blinked. _Huh_.

 

Was Mason always this kinky? Breeding livestock really fucked with a person's mind apparently.

 

* * *

 

 _**Branding -** _ _proof of ownership_

 

Of course, it wouldn't be a Verger storyline without a brand or two. 

 

During the first night when Hannibal was settled into his new pen, Cordell had him moved to the livestock area to be branded.

 

Just for this moment, Hannibal's gag is removed, though the blindfold remained. Probably to enhance the sensation and let Mason hear his screams.

 

The area he is held in is clean and sterile, though the stench of fear and pain can still be scented no matter how good of a cleanup was done.

 

Hannibal himself could hear the cries of the pigs outside, milling about and nipping each other in their distress and unease.

 

Or maybe Mason was tossing someone who had displeased him to the pigs and they were joyously ripping the poor sod apart - _who knew?_

 

The Verger brand is red hot, smoldering and hissing like an angry snake as Cordell positions it to his back, angling for the small of it - ensuring a permanent reminder whenever he moved or breathed.

 

Hannibal feels the scorching heat an instant before an indescribable pain hit him.

 

Inwardly, he lets loose a string of foul words in French, because the French are very good at naming all the bad things in life.

 

Outwardly, Hannibal exhales, a minor tremble running down his frame as he takes in the scent of his charring flesh. He remains still like he did when they cleaned his flesh, motionless as his skin is marred.

 

The iron is removed to reveal the fresh brand - a stark contrast even against his tan skin.

 

Hannibal could almost _feel_ Mason's disappointment at the lack of wailing or crying through the cameras.

 

Cordell, for all his grumbling, is surprisingly careful when caring for Hannibal's wound, applying a nice, thick layer of salve before bandaging it up with plastic wrap and gauze - all to ensure a well-formed brand.

 

So much for an infection taking him out of the picture then.

 

That would be too easy, eh?

 

* * *

 

  _ **Conditioning** \- only good if done on hair_

 

Being a person that made a living on understanding the inner workings of the human mind made Hannibal very resistant to typical  _brainwash- ahem,_ reeducation.

 

Hannibal having a **Gamer's Mind** meant  _ **100% Resistance against Mental Effects**_ , not that anyone knew as he was an excellent actor and knew when to _not_  go out of character.

 

Luckily, Cordell was very helpful in that by coming up with more unconventional and perverse methods to taking away Hannibal's control.

 

Cutting off his senses for periods of time was an excellent idea that Hannibal applauded inwardly. Mason would have certainly recorded his progress and procedures down, if staying true to his nature, which would serve as evidence when the time came.

 

Hannibal rewarded creativity by giving them a new side of him to work with; becoming a skittish and sensitive creature, endearingly clumsy when moving about and unsure of himself. 

 

He's still prideful and elegant of course.

 

While the blindfold is a near-constant, his muzzle and earplugs are only enforced when it's _bedtime_ or when he misbehaved. 

 

He is collared, as any _beloved_ pet would be, though it is mostly ornamental, switched out often to Mason's fancy, just another stark reminder of who Hannibal belonged to like the brand on his skin.

 

Honestly, if Will was the one doing all this to him, Hannibal would have cheerily rolled over and put up token protest(- _or resisted fiercely if Will preferred manhandling him_ )... but well, this was Mason. So, no dice.

 

Verger pops by to check up on his progress, though it's just an excuse for seeing Hannibal on his hands and knees in person, meek and leashed as he was led about and trained to obey.

 

Hannibal's _'indifference'_ turns into _'weary resignation'_ after the first month of his captivity. 

 

It's an unspoken fact that even if people were looking for him, he'd be considered dead with the length of time he had been gone.

 

All they would search for was a corpse - and no one would ever think to look at Verger's territory. 

 

After all, who would suspect a known child molestor to kidnap a fully grown older man?

 

* * *

 

_**Pet** **-** entertainment_

 

It's all an act of course. 

 

No one knows any better, never having a glimpse of Hannibal's true face or his capabilities - and Hannibal intends to keep it that way.

 

He doesn't bother escaping, not wanting to restart his progress and get even more security watching over him.

 

Unfortunately, while Hannibal was no longer confined to his room or pen, he could only roam around the confines of a modified wing, away from any prying eyes like a treasured pet.

 

Not that he cared much, considering his enjoyment of being pampered - and Mason was surprisingly content with Hannibal pretty much being a human cat, wandering around the halls naked and collared, listening to Mason rant, eating at his feet and being petted. 

 

Hannibal didn't appreciate the weekly _breeding_ sessions though, and always had to be caught and forced into position before the machine was made to fuck him into incoherency.

 

Mason himself performed admirably, arrogantly believing the he had cowed and coerced Hannibal into giving up his body for Mason's pleasure.

 

No bestiality, for all of the man's depravity and threats. Only just the typical kinky bondage and screwing in unhygenic places(- _like the barns, or the bath, or on the dining table; you get the idea_ ).

 

Hannibal was _mildly_ disappointed.

 

Mason, for all his chattiness, dared not risk the health of his therapist after a severe whipping resulted in a high fever and near death - which meant expressing his sadistic tendencies on his sister and applying more affection to Hannibal.

 

It's an opportunity for Hannibal to use his influence and get his revenge for a good couple years of progress wasted on this unexpected event.

 

Now, how to lure Margot Verger in for a quick chat?

 

* * *

 

Will's head is a throbbing mess when the incessant ringing of his phone wakes him up. Jack's appointed therapist for him was utterly useless in his opinion - and he can't help but wonder if Hannibal( _Jack's first option and good friend)_ would have been better for him if the man had not gone missing just before their meeting.

 

His dogs gather around him, whining in concern as he drags himself to accept the call.

 

"Will." Jack's voice is brusque, rough. "There's been an attempted murder at the Verger estate. I need you in. Now."

 

"Can't this wait?" Will groans, catching sight of his clock. _4.05am_.

 

His head hurts. 

 

"Everything's not adding up." _~~I don't care.~~ I want you here, now -_

 "...alright." Will grumbles.

 

Downing a painkiller, Will shuffled off to calm his dogs, dress himself before driving to the crime scene.

 

Jack all but pounced on him when he arrived at the Verger estate, which loomed over them like the start of a shitty horror movie.

 

"Catch me up - what's going on?"

 

Jack seemed unusually disturbed, more so than the Ripper cases, which was never a good sign. 

 

"It seems that Verger wasn't only keeping livestock in his company," he said cryptically, which did not help Will's imagination or his hurting brain any.

 

"Sir," another agent interrupted. "We've just unlocked a closed off section of the place. You might want to take a look at this."

 

Jack looked at Will.

 

Will took in a deep breath and nodded.

 

While the police milled about the outer layers and helped to collect evidence, Team Science was gathered in the unsealed wing of the mansion, which was not dissimilar to the rest, though it had thick, carpeted floors in comparison to the cool marble of fancy carpets of the rest of the house. 

 

Entering it was like going into another house; set aside from the Verger Estate to belong to someone else.

 

Will noted the lack of jibes at his subpar appearance and Beverly's quiet pallor and gritted his teeth, focusing his empathy, putting aside the pain to understand what had transpired.

 

_"I keep him here from prying eyes. No one shall ever find him. He is mine. He sleeps, eats and lives at my command. I am a benevolent God."_

Will paused, licking his lips. _"...he remains, while all have gone."_

 

Price looked ill.

 

Entranced by curiosity - wanting to see the man who captured Verger's curiosity so; the morbid want to look at the man who drew the attention of this crimminal.

 

Will strode in, Jack and the forensic trio following him in with a healthy amount of wariness.  

 

He knows the hallways in the back of mind, muttering the uses of the various rooms out loud as he drew on what was certainly Verger's depravity.

 

The obviously used fucking machines and breeding benches he spied while passing a room is enough to give him the shivers.

 

Where Mason's captive is kept is obvious enough - a steel door near the end of the hallway, complete with multiple outside locking mechanisms and a spyhole to the inside.

 

Will peers into the hole. A naked, motionless figure resided within. Blond hair hid any discernable features as the man rested in his cage, curled up, head in his arms.

 

He tells them as such when the throbbing of his skull dissipates.

 

Beverly surprisingly proves her know-how to lock-picking, leaving the final code-password lock to Will.

 

 _Whenever I type it in,_ Verger's slimy thoughts slip in with unsettling ease -  _it reminds me of the day he arrived, sleeping so peacefully; angelic, like a -_

 

Will shakes his head, licking his lips, wondering whether he looked as wild as he felt.

 

 _"The code to enter is the day of my pet's capture,"_ Will rasps out, typing in the numbers and hearing the mechanical click of the door unlocking.

 

The cell is surprisingly clean and sterile(- _learnt my lesson after he nearly died from his infected wounds, Will whispers, shuddering_ ) - a shower in a corner and a pen filled with soft straw in the center, occupied by Verger's captive, his back now facing them to reveal a brand of the Verger crest on his back.

 

Sharp cheekbones, mussed silvery-blond hair contrasted by the black of his blindfold reveal themselves as an elegant neck curved around a broad shoulder to face them.

 

 _Verger has good taste_ , was Will's first thought, though he would never admit it aloud.

 

The man tilted his head, bird-like, inhaling the air daintily - if that was even possible.

 

Will wondered how long it took for a man such as he to become compliant enough to remain wilfully blinded to ensure dependency on his captors.

 

 _Not my owner._ Will's mind supplied running commentary. _Familiar strangers; friendlies. I am safe here._

 

Plush lips parted in a soft huff as the man stretched gracefully, revealing a snug leather collar at the base of his throat and somewhat malnourished body - utterly uncaring of his nakedness. More feline than human. 

 

 _Feral._ Will's fever-hot brain paints the captive's lips a vicious red.

 

 _"Doc-_ Doctor Lecter-? Hannibal?" Jack's broken voice scares them all more than anything - the sheer pain and despair at finally finding his friend after so long in such a horrible situation stabbing through Will like fiery lances.

 

The name is familiar - Price, Katz and Zeller know it too, judging by the gradual recognition in their eyes.

 

"Hannibal?" Will utters, so very lost.  _This was the man that was supposed to be my psychiatrist?_

 

 _Hannibal_ makes a soft sound, shifting closer to the bars of his cage. Eyes like burgundy catch Will's blues and held them for an instant.

 

Will winced instinctively, expecting an influx of emotions and feelings, only to feel nothing, like brushing up against a cool metal wall; or looking at the calm sea.

 

It's a novel experience.

 

"Oh god..."

 

The FBI head staggered to Hannibal's pen like an wounded man, reaching through the bars with trembling fingers, grazing Hannibal's face before the man himself pushed into the friendly touch happily, a rumbling purr emitting from his throat.

 

Carefully, the blindfold is nudged off and dark maroon eyes meet Jack's warm brown ones for the first time in many years. A spark of recognition appears in Hannibal's eyes.

 

Trembling fingers paw at the bars, wanting.

 

Will's blue eyes lock onto soft maroon ones for the second time.

 

It's like a silent signal for Jack to _wrench_ the cage door off its hinges like it was made of tinfoil in an amazing display of strength, ignoring Hannibal's instinctive flinch to drag the older into a tight hug, carefully avoiding the ugly brand on his back.

 

"I'm so sorry. You're safe now," Jack muttered - and they're all treated to the sight of a fully grown man melting into Crawford's hold like a soothed feline.

 

Everyone else gaped.

 

Hannibal only purred louder, though his eyes never left Will Graham's.

 

* * *

 

"It's going to be difficult to rehabilate Hannibal." Random Doctor #10 spoke.

 

"Don't talk about him like he's an animal!" Jack snapped, pissed.

 

Hannibal, who was in a private room thirty feet away, was observing the play by play with his nifty **System** , smirked inwardly.

 

"With how much he has regressed, it would be a miracle if we got him functioning as a proper human and not simply mimic the actions of others."

 

"There has also been signs of repeated sexual assault and beatings, which makes things more difficult." Thank you, #10.

 

"He's my friend -"

 

"Who imprinted on your profiler like a baby duck."

 

_Precisely! Send me off with Will and his twenty, ahem, six dogs -_

 

Jack seemed to have an epiphany.

 

"Will. Would you be willing to care for Doctor Lecter here? I am asking this as a personal favor and not your supervisor-"

 

Hannibal would have clapped his hands if they were not bandaged and restrained to make him less of a _flight risk._

 

Will blinked. "What happened to not treating him like an animal again?"

 

 "Please," Jack barrelled on, ignoring Will's words.

 

"Fine. But I'm taking my leave until then."

 

_My head fucking **hurts**._

 

Jack's agreement is too good to be true.

 

* * *

 

  **Rehabilate -** _a second chance_

 

Once Hannibal's bruises had healed and the man deemed well enough physically, he had been sent off to live with Will in his home in Wolftrap, which had been cleaned up just for his newest guest.

 

Will felt like a husband taking away the beloved daughter of the family with the way Jack dismissed them. 

 

He doesn't quite understand why he accepted to take care of what was otherwise a complete stranger. Maybe it was something in those dark eyes that called out to him; a potential predator in a lull. 

 

Will is drawn to it. Drawn to the hurt in Hannibal, drawn to the mystery of his would-have-been pyschiatrist.

 

Will has always wanted,  _needed_  to fix broken things. Boat motors, abused strays... and now, Hannibal.

 

It could be dangerous, for Will would have to stop his hunting until Hannibal got his bearings back but Will doesn't mind as much as he thought he would.

 

That his headaches would calm somewhat with Hannibal's presence also helped.

 

Hannibal is the ideal passenger. He is silent, taking in his surroundings patiently, waiting. 

 

Dressed in a soft red sweater and grey sweatpants, Hannibal is nothing like the suave, untouchable host shown in newspaper articles and Lound's blog. 

 

Now, there is something more human about him, softer and vulnerable, especially when placed in Will's home, surrounded by his things and his dogs.

 

Their introduction goes well.

 

His dogs mill about him like a sea of fur and wagging tails and Hannibal takes to them easily, his apprehension dissipating at their friendliness and Will's cozy home.

 

 _Adaptive_ , Will muses, thinking of how well Hannibal fitted with his canines - the image of a collared Hannibal flitting through his mind.

 

"Hannibal," Will calls gently when the dogs have settled down.

 

The man stiffens imperceptibly, a slight tremor running down his spine before he sinks to his knees, resigned.

 

The sight makes Will nauseous.

 

"No, no," Will coos, Southern accent roughening his words.

 

_"There's no need for tha'."_

 

Hannibal trembles, but Will senses it is not from fear and continues his approach, pulling Hannibal back up.

 

Hannibal averts his sight demurely, soft fringe falling to cover the dark red of his eyes. His fingers twist together, unsure.

 

Despite Hannibal being taller than him, the man is hunched in, making Will feel bigger, predatory - like a wolf and his pack facing down a wounded stag. 

 

Boldly, Will grasps the older man's chin and tilts it up to face him, delighting in the light blush that pinkens the high of those cheekbones. 

 

Trepidation and hope. A beautiful mix Will doesn't think he'll ever tire of seeing on this man's face.

 

It's so very easy to make eye contact and hold it with Hannibal. Comforting, even. To be _seen_ and not _judged_.

 

"You are not a slave. Verger has no hold over you now." 

 

 _I do._ The hungry, possessive bit of him rumbles.

 

Hannibal blinks, lips parting and for a single moment Will thinks he would voice out his thoughts - instead, all that comes out is a little sigh. 

 

* * *

 

 **Pamper -** _done on that which one considers precious; to spoil_

 

Living with Hannibal is startlingly easy.

 

Will had expected more trouble considering Hannibal's experiences and his own aversion towards other people, but the man's presence was a soothing balm to his harried mind.

 

He couldn't help but wonder whether proper psychiatrists were all like this or if it was a Hannibal thing, for Chilton was nothing like that, and Alana honestly made him uneasy with her not-so subtle prodding of the inner workings of his mind.

 

 _Probably a Hannibal thing,_ Will thinks, for part of his calm came from the former surgeon's feelings not spilling over into his constantly like the majority.

 

The man exuded a calmness that made Will want to shatter, but not like what Mason had done. He wants what Hannibal is willing to give.

 

\- and well, Hannibal is more than willing to do so once he recognised Will as his rescuer.

 

He would cook, clean and feed the dogs, doing the household chores when waiting for Will to return home. It makes Will envious of Hannibal's past paramours and future partners - to have such a catch.

 

Will just wished that Hannibal would actually wear clothes and not just strut around the house naked.

 

The man was unashamed of his body(- _and Will could see why frankly_ ), but having a bare, willing body next to him was giving Will all sorts of unwanted reactions(- _and erections_ ).

 

The most he could do was to convince Hannibal to wear an apron while cooking and a coat or pants when he went out. 

 

Alana and Jack were disapproving when they dropped by, but Will convinced them(- _and frankly did not give a flying fuck_ ) for the most part.

 

Truthfully, Will didn't protest _too_ hard when he was treated to the sight of Hannibal's firm ass every morning when the man made breakfast and the warmth of a furred chest pressing into him at night.

 

It soothed his night terrors.

 

It absolved any feeling of guilt he had from taking advantage of Hannibal.

 

No, Will was not a good person, but he never claimed to be anyways.

 

Sometimes, Will can't help but wonder about what kind of man Hannibal had been in the privacy of home before all this had happened to him.

 

Would he have been perfectionistic and pompous or would he have let down his guard a little more?

 

Worn soft sweaters and relaxed in his undoubtedly fancy home with a glass of wine and - well, Will couldn't imagine Hannibal eating anything other than homecooked meals no matter what.

 

The darker side of Will mused that Mason was right for not touching Hannibal's hands - the doctor's handiwork was excellent and his food was the best thing he ever had even with what little experience Will had in fine-dining.

 

Those old magazines and newspapers Will dug up that mentioned Hannibal all raved about his dinner parties and food. Will would have been loathe to have missed out on it had Verger chosen to reduce the man's mobility permanently.

 

If he was the one who had captured Lecter, he would have taken good care of the doctor, take away any responsibilities the man had, let him be pampered and safe.

 

But that's neither here nor there.

 

All in all Will and Hannibal's new life together  is very domestic.

 

Idyllic, but there is still an undercurrent of tension that grows stronger in Will at the notion of Hannibal regaining full health and leaving Will and his shabby home behind.

 

( _He doesn't have to worry_.)

 

* * *

 

Living with Will is one of the most wonderful things Hannibal could imagine.

 

It's everything he ever wanted.

 

Will is kind, generous and protective of him, taking care of him at his most vulnerable state - something Hannibal could only hope for outside of this event.

 

The constant eye contact and friendliness throws Hannibal off too, but the man takes whatever he can get. This was more than he had ever hoped for.

 

Knowing that this was all a temporary dream, Hannibal is bold and forward in his seduction of Will Graham where he would never be in the original.

 

"Hannibal?" Will's sleep-heavy voice nudged him from his musings.

 

Hannibal made a soft, questioning sound, turning from his meal preparations to find Will leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a thin shirt and loose sweatpants.

 

"You're not wearing clothes again." It's a simple statement, not chiding in the least.

 

Hannibal smiles.

 

Indeed, all he has on is a ruffled apron, a soft cream one that hugged his figure nicely and was tied in a neat bow just above the cleft of his ass.

 

Will never mentioned how much he liked the sight, but his actions speak louder than words.

 

Hannibal lowers the heat of the stove, moving over to the French press he had convinced Will to bring over from his place in Baltimore for a better cup of morning coffee.

 

Soon enough, a steaming cup of coffee - a special blend from one of his many well-wishers - was offered to Will, who took it with a grateful smile.

 

Soft lips curve up in return, smiling trustingly.

 

Will pushes down the stirrings of interest in his stomach.

 

Hannibal had been tortured and brainwashed. Raped. Degraded to an animal. Objectified. Yet still so very lovely. And affectionate.

 

 _"Will..."_ Hannibal sighs - the first word he had spoken in months. His tone would be lovelorn or longing at the least - and Will is open to so whatever he wants with that knowledge.

 

Will nods blearily, eyes widening as he slowly registered Hannibal's voice in his mind.

 

"Ha- _Hannibal?"_

 

"Will!" Hannibal chirped, smile small but pleased - sharp canines glinting in the dim lighting. 

 

The cup slipped from numb fingers and Hannibal snaps it up with practiced ease, setting it on the counter.

 

He looks up just in time for the profiler to barrel into him with a crushing hug.

 

"W-will?" Hannibal echoed, confused. He certainly didn't do anything out of the ordinary, and it was roughly time to start  _'regaining his speech'_ in his road to recovery.

 

Was timing it just after Will had healed from his encephalitis a bad idea-?

 

The profiler was supposed to be more stable after being cured and having Hannibal nurse him to health, no?

 

"Can you say anything else? Your... name? Where you're living in or the names of those fancy meals you always prepare?"

 

"Will!" Hannibal repeats again, nuzzling at the other's scruffy face like an affectionate cat.

 

 _Oh,_ it was fine, Will simply didn't expect Hannibal's first word to be his name, he concluded.

 

All was well.

 

Warm hands stroke his back before gripping at his hips, thumb rubbing the flesh there in slow circles. Hannibal shudders, melting into the touch. He would stay here forever, if not for the fact that they had yet to have breakfast -

 

_Oh no._

 

"Will!" Hannibal panicked, squirming out of the profiler's hold and shedding the apron like an old skin, hurrying back to the stove, removing the frying pan from the heat - his pancakes a dark brown and too charred for consumption.

 

 _Well, at least I still have plenty of batter left._ Sighing at his mistake, Hannibal threw the pancake away gloomily, cleaning any remaining bits off the pan before oiling it up to add more batter in.

 

A warm hand lands on his shoulder. Hannibal perks up upon seeing the encouraging smile on Will's face.

 

"Don't worry 'bout it." Will murmurs. "We have all the time in the world."

 

Hannibal flushes, turning away so Will doesn't see his melancholic smile. _If only..._

 

* * *

 

The epilogue is nothing new.

 

Hannibal heals with Will's help. They become closer and despite Jack's and Alana's disapproval at Will potentially taking advantage of Hannibal's state, they become _lovers_.

 

The label always makes something delightful glow in Hannibal's belly, as does Will's many pet names for him.

 

Their first time together is beautiful - a wonder, in Hannibal's eyes. The romance Hannibal has with Will Graham never gets old. 

 

Will kisses him first.

 

He had woken up one day, pressed against Will, then Will's lips are on him, gentle, with an underlying roughness to it.

 

It stuns him.

 

Will parts when Hannibal is unresponsive, spluttering apologies and stumbling out of bed like a newborn fawn.

 

Hannibal touches a hand to his lips, feeling the remanent of Will's warmth on his flesh and gets up for the day. He remembers the way Will would cradle his arms around him when he thought him asleep and smiles.

 

He is loved.

 

The little smile on his face only grows when Will quietly joins him for breakfast, face red as he stared at Hannibal's mostly naked body and then to the bow of his lips.

 

Hannibal returns Will’s kiss after their meal with tentative eagerness, preventing the man from shying away and making unecessary apologies.

 

Finally - he'd be with Will - to watch him in his territory; comfortable and at _home_.

 

To discover his intimate quirks and preferences!

 

A new book appeared Hannibal’s mind palace's library; tantalisingly blank pages to be filled with notes.

 

As the two of them made their way haphazardly through the house to the bedroom, Hannibal contentedly hoarded new information about Will.

 

Soft kisses are pressed to his lips, eyes reflecting the adoration found in Hannibal's and the firm grip of gun-callused hands on his hips, thighs and wrists -

 

It's beautiful.

 

Mason comes for them a couple months later, paralysed and more cruel than ever with his hired help to assist him.

 

Hannibal and Will are abducted and seperated during their vacation in Florence(- _an anniversary and celebration of their meeting and Will's good health after his brain inflammation was discovered and cured thanks to Hannibal rolled up in one_ ).

 

Pazzi, a corrupted cop who took bribes and let them be shipped back to the Verger mansion.

 

Like Muskrat Farm, Mason decides to have a little get-together where Will tears out the throat of one of Mason's guards when they get too close to a supposedly traumatised Hannibal. 

 

Hannibal is collared and caged, with no Alana or Margot to help because this is not their universe.

 

This time, Will does the killing and rescuing.

 

Afterwards Hannibal seduces Will into claiming him when the man arrives, all bloodied and reeking of death - hungry eyes raking over his naked form and they fuck then and there, with Hannibal still collared and bound.

 

They leave the estate of horrors behind, Hannibal cradled in warm, strong arms, leaving Mason's body and his men to be consumed by the hogs.

 

Hannibal basks in Will's warmth, wonderfully sore, listening to his breathing and steady heartbeat as the man carried him through the snow, making him feel protected and cared for with such ease.

 

 _"Will,"_ Hannibal whispers, burrowing into the man's chest, like he could dig under his ribcage and nestle into his heart; two melding into one. Their bloodstained forms only serve to enhance the notion.

 

"- _mylimasis,_ " Hannibal croons, eyes shining with adoration.  _You are such a wonderful person._

 

 _I do not want to risk tainting you._ Hannibal closes his eyes.

 

If he were to breathe his last, this is how he would want to go.

 

* * *

  **[Mission Complete.]**

**[Calculating scores... Please check back in a few minutes.]**

* * *

 

He exits the mission into his reality, or what consists of it in this strange world of his. 

 

He thinks of Will, of cooking for him, caring for him, of delightful conversations and of soulful blue eyes.

 

He can only hope that Will would love this him that was not a murderer.

 

Like the original, he would never wish to change any part of Will, only allow him to become his truest self and show him the finer things in life.

 

If nothing, well, Hannibal can always **Reload** , right?

 

Till he gets the **Perfect End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- if Hannibal had allowed himself to be captured without a fuss, he would have been put in 'low security' and have an easier chance at escaping.  
> * unfortunately, he did not realise that Verger's capture team is unavoidable and ended up delaying them to the point where he became considered as a flight risk, thus the high security + extreme conditioning
> 
> \- Please, please do review and tell me what you think of this chapter - what y'all liked, disliked and what could be improved on. This is my first time writing anything of this sort, so other perspectives would be highly appreciated.  
> *the rude shall be added to pig slop though c:


	17. J O B :: Veterinarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal gets sentimental. Will gets a new dog.

As always, anything involving Will Graham never goes to plan.

 

Hannibal had already decided that he would not use any game-breaking items to secure Will's affections for him. He wanted the man to love him sincerely, from the bottom of his heart and not due some **Love Potion** or **Token**.

 

Yet, what was the point of knowing the plot when everything went so  _wrong_  no matter what he did?

 

He had tried to gain Will's affections, tried to befriend him and even raised him up from childhood yet the ending was always rotten. 

 

At least Hannibal always has his  **Saves**.

 

Yes, he save scums everything. Every choice and mission to ensure a perfect end.

 

And to screw around with Will Graham as that was the point of the game. ( _If he can't have him, he could have his fun at least right?_ )

 

Of course, the only ones he doesn't bother with are the  **Replayable Missions**  or  **Special Event**  ones as they were stored into his  **Missions**  once completed.

 

His first date with Will Graham was one-sided - to be more precise, it happened due to an accident, which was why it was not considered a true  _Date_.

 

Will Graham, proving yet again that he valued dogs over humans, had brought in a mutt that had been involved in a hit-and-run. This was not long after the Hobbs incident and a lull between trying to find their killer of the week and time off to get to know each other.

 

Despite protests from Hannibal's receptionist, Will had still barged into his office, pleading for help - and well, Hannibal(-  _who had come out of his office to see what the fuss was about_ ) could never resist those baby blues.

 

Showing off his vet's license had assured Will and gotten more admiring looks from his receptionist, to which he ignored.

 

Perhaps it was time to switch out this lady for someone else since her affection was already  **Maxed**  out.

 

Shooing Will out to the waiting room, Hannibal took his coat and they hastened off to the emergency operation room below the office(-  _indeed, the entire building was Hannibal's, and he had pretty much built all sorts of facilities in for such occasions_ ) adjusting his settings to an automated mode.

 

The dog is an ugly thing with an underbite, hair-loss and matted fur, blood and drool dribbling from its gaping jaws but with soulful brown eyes and a hint of light champagne fur under all that dirt.

 

It is surprisingly cooperative. A perfect familty dog. 

 

( _Will names it Zoe_.)

 

Hannibal calls it Abigail, for the family they could have been.

 

He doesn't tell Will.

* * *

 

When Hannibal exits the room, Will stops in his pacing,  _willingly_  making eye contact for once. The younger is a rumpled mess, reeking of concern and worry, making Hannibal simply want to protect him from the world.

 

Hannibal's heart flutters at the set of blue eyes on his, a little sigh escaping his lips.

 

"She's a lucky one," Hannibal said. "No broken bones or ruptured organs. Very brave too; didn't struggle and bearing her pain well when I inspected her. Apart from some bruising and slight starvation, there is no lice or mites - just start her on the usual de-worming medication and small quantities of soft food first..."

 

Despite knowing Will's expertise in caring for abused and abandoned strays, Hannibal still rattles off the necessary information as he is a _good doctor_ that does care for his patients and would not base things off assumptions.

 

Will Graham got a care sheet, medications and instructions to update Hannibal on Zoe's health along with the mini lecture.

 

What Hannibal never says is how close the dog had been to death, the multitude of broken bones, its punctured lungs and collection of parasites that would have killed it were it not for his **Gamer** ability to bend the rules of reality.

 

With his **Healing Instance** and medicines, Hannibal had bathed and cured the worst of the canine's wounds, leaving only the bruising for appearance's sake.

 

The ever observant profiler would certainly be suspicious if a half-dead dog suddenly returned back to the prime of its health, seeing as no miracle cure like _that_ existed in this world.

 

The sheer gratitude and relief that poured from Will's expressive eyes stunned Hannibal, but he could understand; he was an animal lover too.

 

Whatever Will senses or sees in Hannibal serves to take away all tension in Will - and Hannibal likes to believe there's a modicum of affection in those eyes for him(-  _and not only the newly rescued dog_ ).

 

"Pl-" _"Thank you!"_  Will's voice interrupted Hannibal loudly, making the man close his mouth, waiting for him to say his piece. As always, Will's rude manner is excused.

 

"S-sorry, Doctor. I just... was on my way here when I saw the poor gal lying there, injured and I, well, panicked and rushed here- "

 

The surgeon cut off Will's rambling with a raise of his hand. 

 

"It is no matter, Mister Graham," Hannibal smiled.

 

"Call me Will," the younger insisted.

 

"Certainly, _dear_ Will," Hannibal chuckled, a hint of affection seeping into his tone. "That you have come to me for help is a sign of your trust and I am grateful for that."

 

"It's - I didn't realise you had your own operation room over here." The younger muttered, scratching at his cheek, seemingly disregarding the endearment tacked before his name.

 

"Lucky coincidences," Hannibal remarks calmly, eyes crinkling in amusement at the moue of displeasure at his formality. "I built my own private facilities for close friends and certain clientele to use."

 

"Yeah, still, it wasn't my intention to bother you." 

 

"This is your time with me, Will." _Oh, how Hannibal relished the permission he had to finally say Will's given name aloud -_ "How you choose to spend it is up to you."

 

Hannibal smiles kindly.

 

The gesture is sincere where it would have been faked for most. "If it makes you happy, it is no trouble at all. I understand the urge to help those in need, no matter what form they take. I myself have done so many a time, which is why I took up veterinary to be able to do more for animals; domesticated and wild."

 

"That's kind of you." Will admitted sincerely, eyes drifting to his hands.

 

Hannibal hums, and allows Will deeper into his home.  _If you say so._

 

( _He is rewarded several Hellhound ascending items and a plan begins to form in his mind_.)

 

* * *

 

Their next session begins with a more open Will - and Hannibal absently wonders how many more dogs he has to save for Will to love him.

 

Or adopt him. 

 

Hannibal would take whatever he could get.

 

 _You are afraid of happiness_ , Bedelia had stated.

 

Hannibal digresses, for it is nothing more than instinctual reaction from repeated rejection. ( _Will leaving him behind, leaving him for Molly, sending him down the cliffs_ -)

 

But that had never happened, right? But it _had_ , a reminding voice grumbled - to the Lecter of canon timeline and Hannibal would always stay loyal to himself. He decides, better to keep away than reach out further. 

 

The original Hannibal had suffered plenty for the both of them. 

 

 _Will has never rejected you once_ , she adds. 

 

Maybe he had went in too deep, ingrained the canon Lecter's psyche so much where their feelings and notions for Will Graham were one; where he couldn't live with or without Will.

 

Hannibal finds that he doesn't mind as much as he thought it would.

 

He says nothing.

 

Pining away would be a fitting end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Reborn!Fannibal-Hannibal gets in too deep with his obssession of Will Graham though he won't admit it - it's why he refuses to pursue an ending with Will outside of Special Events/Alternate Universe Scenarios  
> *his sanity is slipping somewhat, but then again, he has never been 100%
> 
> \- very busy in RL, thus the slow updates. Rest assured I'll make up for them though~


	18. Psychiatry Client 066

"Doctor!" The snot ball known as Franklyn Froideveaux wailed, grubby hands managing to paw at Hannibal's tailored pants before the man shifted out of reach subtely.

 

Mucus was wiped on 3-ply tissues and left sitting on his antique tiger oak table instead of the trashbin  _right next to him_ but Hannibal could tolerate.

 

"Is it too much to ask to be your friend?"

 

 _Don't. Touch. Me._ Pasting a chiding smile on his face, Lecter wept internally at the violation of his body and office.

 

Why did he continue getting such torturous patients? First with Randall, then Mason and now this sobbing pile of lard -

 

"Franklyn, I'm your psychiatrist, not your friend."

 

"B-but you just know me so well _and_ -" Loud, trumpeting nose-blowing filled the room in a horrific symphony to Franklyn's blubbering.

 

"It makes me sad that I have to _pay_ to see you!"

 

Hannibal suddenly felt very unclean. 

 

Couldn't he get a normal patient for once?

 

But really, this was so much better than Mason. That was one thing he'd rather not repeat, thank you very much.

 

Franklyn was just a constant repeat of neediness and lines from the first season and if this was what got him closer to his end goal, so be it.

 

Now, to arrange an accidental meeting of Will and Franklyn to hopefully stimulate Will's growing protectiveness into overdrive...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Do you think if we make a rendition of Someone Help Hannibal(ft. God Save The Queen) there'll be a change?*doubt so~


	19. MISSION: Killer of the Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has his priorities. 
> 
> Will... does not.

Hannibal wanted to cheer when the classic **Killer of the Week** mission _finally_ appeared.

 

But as Hannibal Lecter, Sir Gentleman Cheekbones and the _Cool Dude_ , he could not **OOC** and desecrate the reputable image of his character and only resort to rocking himself to sleep in his mind palace.

 

After the string of stressful events(- _Franklyn as the main course_ ), Hannibal would like to end the rest of the month peacefully. 

 

 **Killer of the Week** missions appeared once a week, featuring a variety of criminals _not_ found in canon. Each mission consisted of gathering clues, finding evidence, talking to suspects or witness to the investigating, piecing up everything and then capturing the killer.

 

Unlike the average detective game though, things could escalate easily. The killer could strike again, you could use your colleagues for tasks. - and Hannibal's least favourite event( _ **1% chance of the Killer coming after You)**_.

 

Hannibal had a _Bad Feeling_ , but despite that, this was the most peaceful route, short of retiring to become a recluse in his Lithuanian castle, surrounded by his **Familiars**.

 

* * *

 

Apart from Hobbs, Hannibal refused to accept any other plot-moving **Killer of the Week** Quest.

 

Completing a canon-related killer's quest would only advance the storyline, something Hannibal refused to do until all **Quests** had been exhausted.

 

His current one was to find out the truth of the  **Beast Tamer** \- a title that Hannibal felt  _Did Not_ fit some weirdo who only had a track record of training attack dogs and was apparently trying to do the same to humans. 

 

That title suited _him_ in his opinion; for he was someone who already had tamed  _supernatural_ creatures as his familiars rather than the common mongrel!

 

Apparently,  _'both men and dogs were social creatures'_ , according to an early arrest of the killer before the guy escaped the following day.

 

This is the moment one would applaud the incompetency of the bureaucracy, but Hannibal never spoke aloud and there was no one to appreciate his jokes.

 

While he was forced to sit through Jack's monologue on the details(- _which would all appear in his mission screen for further perusing_ ), Hannibal discreetly focused on his mission partner; Will Graham.

 

"- shouldn't be involved! He's my therapist; not a detective consultant!"

 

Graham was a protective mess, delightfully against the idea of his therapist helping out in an investigation against yet another madman. 

 

One would think that Hannibal would be sick of Will's overprotective attitude, but it only made Hannibal gleeful whenever he got to witness it.

 

_You're doing God's work, Jack! Keep on pushing Will onto me; I'm perfectly fine with all this~!_

 

 Then -

 

"The killer is escalating, Will," Jack replies. "His targets all have similarities to Hannibal, so it's better to keep those involved in the loop rather than leave him be and risk an abduction, won't you agree?" 

 

**[Your chances of being abducted has been raised to 20%.]**

 

_NO! Crawford, you **inept** crayfish! What have you done?! _

 

"We cannot move men to guard Doctor Lecter due to an assumption, however convenient that would be..." Jack grumbled, shooting a paling Hannibal an apologetic look.

 

"Look! You're putting unnecessary stress on Hannibal - I'll just stay with him, so you don't need to keep worrying on how to keep your supervisors happy -"

 

Well, Hannibal was faint for different reasons, but there was no need to tell anyone that.

 

"Will!" Jack snapped.

 

_Yes Will, continue!_

 

A warm, flannel-dressed presence closed in on Hannibal. Hannibal was mildly startled at Will's boldness, though his eyes shone with approval.

 

What a wonderful time -

 

**[Your chances of being abducted has been raised to 30%.]**

 

  _Is it too late to choose another mission?_

 

**[The cooldown for rejecting a mission would be 30 days. Proceed?]**

 

 ... _No, thank you._

 

* * *

 

The mission was so boring with this homegrown killer that reminded Hannibal too much of a knockoff Mason Verger. No wonder Will refused to be called up for these run-of-the-mill criminals. Hannibal would move back to Florence and suffer Pazzi's antics if he was in Will's place.

 

Still, as a good partner, Hannibal did his best to fulfil all mission parameters and get things over and done with. Jack provided interesting commentary for the most part.

 

Hopefully, by the time he was finished the Halloween events would have begun.

 

They were still in the investigative bit of the mission, where they had to gather clues and speak with 'witnesses'. Like the ass he was, Hannibal had given Will the human interaction job while he took the detective task.

 

Poor Will had agreed when Hannibal cited exposure therapy and metaphors that he would not care to repeat - but Will lapped it all up, so all was well.

 

The bit where he had to enter this grungy alleyway for _more information_ wasn't very entertaining though. 

 

Something rustled.

 

Hannibal side-eyed the approximate corner where it happened.

 

A rat scampered out from what appeared to be a dirty canvas bag, looking suspiciously fat. It was a fearless thing like most city rats; glutted with stained whiskers and paws like a greedy child caught eating from the jam jar. Further **Observation** revealed that the object was a **Bloodied Bag** \- a clue. 

 

_**Ping!** _

**[Secret Clue has been found!]**

 

Sighing, Hannibal equipped a **Hazmat Suit** from his **Inventory**. Call it overkill, but Hannibal would rather his attire and person be untouched than risk any damage.

 

Moving closer sent the rat running, followed by a family of cockroaches that somehow swarmed out from somewhere when he approached. Hannibal shuddered to think of the possibility if he had _not_ equipped his suit. Thick blood had coagulated around the ovular object, roughly the size of a human head.

 

The stench would have been unbearable, added to the whole mess of this alleyway were it not for Hannibal turning off his **Smell & Taste Senses** in his **Settings**.

 

Prodding at the bag revealed no other movements, so Hannibal carefully peered into it, scalpel at the ready.

 

A rotted head stared sightless, its eyes having been gouged out. Braided red thread sewed up its lips - and apart from the decomposition, it was obvious that the victim had been taken care of before their untimely... separation(- _from this world_ ).

 

_**Ping!** _

**[Obtained Secret Event Clue!]**

**[All Hallow's Eve Secret Early-Bird Mission has been unlocked!]**

**[Note: Starting this event will dismiss any ongoing investigations. There will be no penalty -]**

 

 _Yes!_ Hannibal disregarded the rest of the announcement, accepting the quest at breakneck speed.

 

**[Pick a killer from the list below.]**

**• M.M**

**• Jigsaw**

**• Scissorhands**

**• Frankenstein**

**• Pinhead**

 

Hannibal couldn't help but go for the unique. One disregarded yet well-received, beautiful for how it explored the inherent flaws of human nature.

 

**[Choice confirmed.]**

**[Secret Event Mission: Killer of the Week - Frankenstein has started.]**

 

**[Frankenstein: Corpse Bride]**

**[When a series of seemingly unrelated corpses missing various body parts and organs**   **start turning up - is it the cue for another organ trafficking debacle or the start of something darker?]**

 

_Thank you kindly for spoiling the plot for me, my dear System~_

 

For once, Hannibal was not the least bit sarcastic.

 

* * *

 

 "Hannibal, may I ask what were you doing in such a place anyways?" Jack asked, looking more like an exasperated parent than head of the FBI.

 

 _Don't say 'investigating',_ his entire being seemed to plead, in contrast to the casually eavesdropping Trio of Science and one Will Graham.

 

"I was investigating-"

 

Jack made a sound like a stabbed walrus. Hannibal ignored it with perfected obliviousness.

 

"- clues I gathered from witnesses that pointed me in this direction, mentioning that I could find a clue if I sought out the Talking Bag..."

 

"Are you a therapist or an _optimist?_ You are certainly _not_ a detective, so there's no need to go to such lengths, nor should you have trusted the words of strangers! What if the killer was lurking around-" Jack ranted on, chiding Hannibal. Hannibal only offered a placating smile, his mind distracted with his new mission parameters and the far more interesting killer this **Secret Hallow's Eve Event** had given him.

 

"Is it just me or Jack actually concerned about Doctor Lecter? Not the fake concern he hands us but the Papa Bear kind..." Beverly whispered to her comrades, squinting around her documents of their most recent find.

 

They would describe this scene as _'disapproving worried father reprimands beloved son'_ rather than _'angry boss berating subordinate who FUBARed everything'._

 

 "Anyways, uh, what happened to going after that other killer?" Will questioned, confused.

 

"Oh, you mean the weirdo trying to train humans as dogs?" Zeller said before barrelling on, uncaring of Will's flinch. "He just got caught by our wonderful police force-"

 

"Wait, wait wait _wait_ -"

 

"Waiting." Jimmy and Beverly chirped, smiling like loons as they kept an eye on the play unfolding before them. Drinks and snacks were already on hand, courtesy of some unnamed technician.

 

"Wasn't Jack all in-arms about this? Trying to get me to figure out who the murderer was and all? Wasn't that why we all gathered up here originally?"

 

"Was it?" Jimmy mused, sucking the straw of his Starbucks coffee furiously. Zeller shrugged.

 

"Don't you find it suspicious that the untouchable dude gets caught so easily?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Nah."

 

"The bad guy is behind bars and no one else is hurt, so who cares?"

 

"..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know what's coming up next - H A L L O W E E N ~♥
> 
> \- **HANNIBAL** also has detective elements, so every week a selection of **[Killer of the Week] Quests** where he can hunt down various killers(- _to arrest or kill, depending on your chosen route_ ) are given by the **System**. Such **Quests** will be refreshed weekly if not chosen. Only one **Killer Quest** can be completed at a time. Daily tasks and non-related quests are not affected unless otherwise stated.  
> \- All **Holiday Events** have **Special Killers** which can be accessed through **Lottery** , **Event Mystery Box** and interacting with your environment.  
> *Good Luck!


End file.
